


this time I'm ready to run

by soft (onlysweeter), squishy (Snowingiron)



Series: In The Stars (dark narry demigod au) [11]
Category: One Direction (Band), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Au from the AU from the AU from the AU, Banter, Betrayal, Blow Jobs, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Demigods, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Hero Worship, Hurt, Jeon Jungkook (BTS) - Freeform, Kim Namjoon | RM (BTS) - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Prophecy, Quests, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sleeping with the enemy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-08-14 06:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlysweeter/pseuds/soft, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowingiron/pseuds/squishy
Summary: Centuries before his birth Liam’s fate was already written in the stars, a heavenly net of light cast in the infinite cosmos above with a Liam-shaped empty space, his victory or sacrifice ready to be etched for all time and all times to come.*Remove one variable from the equation and everything changes. What if Harry never made it to camp half-blood? What if there was a different prophecy and Liam was chosen to defeat those dangerous, dangerous 'soulmates'? He will not get distracted by a cheshire cat grin. He will not be distracted from his task. He will not. But Louis always gets his way, doesn't he?(more tags will be added throughout the story)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. oH BOY. It's been... 2 years???? I cannot believe this, what the fuck. So yeah, we've been working on this for a while now and we're ready to get it out there. I swear this series will be longer than Harry Potter. WE COULD HAVE BEEN WRITING AN ACTUAL BOOK but we chose to invest our time and effort in this because we love it so much. We hope you will too.

Liam Payne, son of Zeus, lightning shifter, head counsellor of cabin one and the champion that was chosen blessed by Elpis herself, quietly basks in the light of all that is good and right in the world and is content in the knowledge that he does so.

He sleeps soundly at night knowing he's destined to defeat the most feared evil to ever exist in all the ages of their world. He smiles easily knowing that should he succeed he'll join his divine family and remain at his father's side for all eternity, ageless and all knowing, a _god_. He laughs carefree, eyes crinkled shut, knowing should he fail his death could bring the end of all things.

_There's stability in fate_, Liam quietly muses to himself. _A unique comfort._ His place in history awaits him, one path made just for him. He just has to walk it.

_That may or may not include the two of us dying,_ Caeli, Liam’s eagle companion since he was a child, reminds him helpfully. Like they need the reminder.

Centuries before his birth Liam’s fate was already written in the stars, a heavenly net of light cast in the infinite cosmos above with a Liam-shaped empty space, his victory or sacrifice ready to be etched for all time and all times to come.

This fate came with a prophecy and a price; a prophecy he’s spent his whole life preparing for and a price he’s spent his whole life paying, but even now he is already regarded as a pillar of hope, a steadfast beacon standing against the oncoming storm.

Liam, the golden son of Zeus, the shining light in the new age of demigods, looks to the shadows and sees a Cheshire Cat smile.

*

He's barely six years old and already a promising little fighter with his spear Storm Bringer (a gift from Hephaestus, even though Liam doesn’t fully understand the meaning of it yet, the honour) when a god towers over him, seething with indignation and contempt over a slip of Liam’s tongue.

"I am _not_ your brother." Dionysus hisses for the first but not the final time of Liam's life. Caeli flinches at the harshness of his voice and her claws dig briefly into Liam’s shoulder, hard enough for pinpricks of blood to well, black feathers brushing Liam’s ear as she shrinks back from Dionysus but refuses to leave Liam.

Liam is silent and resolutely doesn't cry even as grapevines writhe like snakes around the god’s feet with a barely restrained urge to constrict some sense into him. "I am not your father figure, I am not your teacher, I am not even your _family_. Expect less than nothing from me and perhaps then you won't be disappointed."

Liam doesn’t speak, doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t look away either. He takes the god’s tirade head on and in to his heart. It’s another lesson for him. His entire life is made up of lessons.

A crisp, clear evening rolls into the valley of camp and Liam is laying under a blanket of an endless starry night sky as Chiron points out constellations to him and the stories that join them, and even though he's breathless with wonder he can't help sniffling into his sleeve. 

Caeli nudges at his hand in a quiet offer of comfort when Liam wipes at his eyes, staring up at the stars as he silently cries. They stare back down, they always do.

Chiron pauses in his astrology tutoring and lowers himself to the ground beside his young charge, legs folding under him as he kneels.

"Liam, are you quite alright?"

"M’fine." Liam lies.

“He’s lying.” Caeli says.

"Liam." Chiron chides gently with an even gentler smile, prompting but never insistent.

Chiron’s always so kind, everything Dionysus has never been and the words feel like they’re about to burst out of Liam’s little chest, so he lets them.

"Why does Dionysus hate me?"

The smile fades from Chiron's face. "Liam…"

"I haven't done anything, I swear I haven't.” Liam cries desperately, fisting handfuls of grass and tearing them up, agitated and upset and ashamed for it. He’s the chosen one, he should be able to handle this, to control his childish feelings. But there’s the truth of it, and he’s bitterly reminded that he can’t, because he’s still just a child. “It's like he hates me just for being born."

"My boy," Chiron starts, voice steady and heavy with an infinite sadness. "You will meet many people, and gods, and monsters, and _people_ and _gods_ who are monsters and they will hate you simply for existing. No matter the best self you are or the best life you lead. It is simply beyond your control."

Liam blinks away more tears and twists to face the centaur beside him, mouth trembling. "But I’m _good_. It’s not _fair_."

"You will find that life is not fair, my dear boy. And that there's not a thing you can do about it. Let people think of you what they will, but always remember what matters most."

Liam looks glumly back up at the vast starry sky and ignores the ever present empty cluster. He’s never felt quite so small. "What matters the most, Chiron?"

The stars reflect in Chiron’s knowledgeable eyes, an entire galaxy, and Liam wonders just how many night skies he’s seen, how many demigods he’s told this to.

“What matters most is what you think of yourself."

*

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely?”

“Born for it.” Liam grins. “Literally.”

Tess grins back, ruffling his hair. “That’s the spirit. Listen closely, okay? The sooner you remember it, the better. I say _remember_ and not learn because prophecies are like water. They flow, they have dark pools hidden beneath their rippling surface that you don’t realise are there even though you’ve been staring at the river for years. There are swift rapids that--“

“Tess!!” Liam’s about to burst. He’s been waiting for today for as long as he can remember what waiting is. “Please, please, tell me. I understand, don’t take anything too deeply _or_ lightly. Chiron’s taught me. Please can I hear it?”

"_When two souls join and golden blood flows,_  
_spring will come early and Olympus' sorrow grows._  
_They shall rise and bring a world's new dawn,_  
_or fail and be slain by Zeus' favourite son._"

There’s not a noise except the faint echoing of Tess’ voice. Must be an oracle thing, Liam thinks distantly. Not even the bugs in the grass chirp, not a single sound of rushing wind. Liam shudders, and feels the words settle into his bones, his soul.

*

"The wine dude is always so nasty to you." Niall, son of Apollo, pouts as they trade Mythomagic cards under a fiery flurry of autumn leaves. Caeli cuts through the air and between the branches above them, spearing the most vibrant leaves through the sharp hook of her beak. "Like, really _extra_ nasty."

Liam shrugs and takes Niall's offered duplicate _Zoë Nightshade_ card and swaps it for his duplicate _Gordon Ramsay, son of Apollo_ card. "He's my brother, it's fine."

Niall frowns and looks at him, pausing in shuffling through his deck. "I have a cabin full of siblings, Liam. Sure some of them play pranks or tease the little kids sometimes but not like he does. _You_ have a cabin full of siblings too. _Actual_ siblings."

"The cabin isn't _that_ full."

Niall elbows him in the ribs with a scoff and steals Liam's treasured Sally Jackson card (he'll return it later, he always does) "You know what I mean, idiot. No one treats you like that except for him."

Liam doesn't know how to respond to that but he _does_ know that Niall will never understand no matter how hard he tries to explain, so he doesn't.

"He's a god." Liam says simply, and hopes that will be enough, for now at least. _He's the only one who treats me like I'm a normal person,_ is what he doesn't say.

Niall looks seriously unconvinced but he leaves it at that and glances back down at his deck. He smirks suddenly and offers up a card between two fingers and dryly asks Liam if he wants to trade his _Priapus_ card for Niall's _Liam, champion that was chosen_ card.

Liam answers by clicking his fingers without looking up from his deck and Caeli answers by swooping down quick as lightning, snatching the card from Niall's fingers and soaring away from them until she can drop it unceremoniously into a nearby burning brazier.

*

It’s his twelfth birthday and he’s wading waist-deep into the River Styx.

His uncle Hades watches silently from the shadowed shore and Liam can’t help but wonder again just how many times he’s seen this, how many times he’s stood idly by as demigods have risked their short lives for the chance of enduring and obtaining the curse of Achilles.

Persephone is stood at Hades’ side, her arm threaded through her husband’s and she’s such a heartening sight to Liam in this endless dark he could cry. She brings a lightness and tranquility he’s always loved every time he’s been lucky enough to be in her presence and right now it’s desperately needed. He’s always struggled with claustrophobia (a trait shared by most children of Zeus) and voluntarily trapped for the time being in the infinite nothingness of the underworld he can’t help the clawing, irrational fear that he’ll never see the sky again.

But this was his choice, or as much as his choice as Chiron had kindly made it out to seem. Liam knows he’s here mostly because his father expects it of him. When it comes to Zeus there is no suggestion, only duty. But Liam isn’t complaining, he understands that this is sacred, a gift and an honour.

He’s just scared.

Liam takes a deep breath and the last two things he sees before he takes the icy plunge is Charon’s mildly curious but mostly bored gaze. He’s stood on his ferry, arms crossed and leant against the bow like this is something he sees ten times a day and also like he has ten thousand more interesting things to be doing.

The other thing he sees is Caeli. She’s at the top of the ferry’s bow and her unease at being down here is palpable, burning embers in her piercing amber eyes. But she’s not trapped here, being here with Liam is completely her choice and hers alone. The only way she would ever leave Liam’s side is by force. The force of a god. And even then she’d put up a fight.

The river washes over Liam’s head, engulfing him completely in its icy grasp. He has a single solid second of thinking, _huh, this isn’t too bad. I can do this,_ and then he seizes, convulsing in white-hot pain. He screams, a million bubbles clouding his already blurry vision as he twists and torques in the bottomless gloom. It feels like he’s drowning and burning alive at the same time, like his skin is being flayed away and when (if?) he ever rises from the river he’ll just be bones.

Bones and a broken prophecy.

Time doesn’t exist beneath the surface, only pain and the sounds of his blood boiling through his veins and rushing water as he thrashes. He’s on fire, displaced from existence, air ripped out of his lungs. Liam wonders if he actually _has_ died and this is some kind of pre-Elysium void. Or maybe he’s in Tartarus, his punishment for failing before he truly started. All the people who’ll suffer and die because he couldn’t handle a dip in the Styx. Because he wasn’t strong enough. The end of the world is the price of his weakness.

It’s that hollow thought that leaves him suddenly numb, floating limp in the still currents.

He opens his eyes and knows immediately he’s not alone. For a horrifying second he fears Caeli dove in after him but she’s nowhere to be seen. He blinks through the murk, squinting at shadowy figures that tease closer, close enough to touch when Liam reaches out but then they start to rise. They rise and rise and Liam suddenly realises, _no, they aren’t rising,_ he’s starting to sink like his pockets are full of stones. He kicks his legs and struggles upwards but it’s futile and he’s really, truly going to die down here.

Desperate, Liam shouts for help, a jetstream of bubbles torn from his throat. He flinches when something brushes at his chest, a tender touch he’s never felt in his whole life. He never even knew a touch could be so gentle. A second palm slides over his chest, fingers twining with the other hand there and it’s all Liam can think about, those two palms pressed flat to his fluttering heart. It’s a loving touch. There’s nothing else to call it. Liam thinks maybe it’s worth dying just to be able to feel a touch like that, even just once in his life.

The two separate hands smooth over his skin slowly, inquisitive but sure; over his stomach and down to his hips, up the strong column of his throat, ghosting over his cheeks and sliding into his hair. Liam’s eyes drift close. His tears are lost to the Styx. The hands leave him for a heartbreaking second only to grab suddenly at his shirt, hauling him up and up and--

Liam breaks the water's surface with a ragged, choking gasp.

Caeli glides over immediately, dropping a towel into his hands when he stumbles on heavy feet through the shallows and drags himself back onto the riverbank. His chest heaves as he glances back.

The waters are still, not even a single ripple of wind. It’s pretty anticlimactic in retrospect. He’s soaking, wrapped in a towel and shivering in front of a god, goddess and ferryman (who’s already rowing away) and the anticlimax dissolves into mild embarrassment. He wonders if they could see or hear him struggling under the murky waters. If they could see the hands.

Liam collapses on the shore and once he’s mostly dried off Caeli hovers close and Liam holds her to his chest like he did when they were kids and she’s such a comforting warm weight in his arms he could honestly cry again. He won’t, though. He can’t. Caeli however doesn’t even pretend like she isn’t trembling against him.

“Did it work?” She asks, barely above a whisper.

Liam holds her closer, cheek against the soft downy feathers of her neck. “I think I’d be dead if it hadn’t, Caeli.”

A touch to his brow, a gentle hand pushing his wet hair back from his face. For a gut wrenching second it’s like being back in the water. Persephone gazes down at him and Liam swallows heavily against the raw sympathy in her eyes.

It flays worse than the Styx.

*

Liam is fourteen and has his first kiss with a daughter of Demeter who smells like honeysuckle under a summer sun and her cheeks are as rosy as the strawberries sprouting around them. It’s only a kiss on the cheek but she holds his sweaty hand to her heart with the brightest smile and she’s the most beautiful thing Liam’s ever seen and he’s sure his short life can’t get any happier, any lighter than this moment.

Chiron never taught him about love or what love _is_ although he's told him everything there is to know and more about Achilles and Patroclus. Even Eros had been very purposely vague when Liam had asked him at the last annual meeting at Olympus, and had almost unnoticeably seethed when Liam had mentioned Aphrodite.

He hadn’t gotten any clear answers, but Liam thinks the fluttering in his chest and the way she smiles at him might just be the beginnings of it.

A month later when she returns from her quest hacked in two like a weed and the logs of the funeral pyre beneath her crackle and burn, Liam understands that love is a very dangerous thing. It's not something he could be taught, he had to _learn_.

Chiron closes a hand over his shoulder, as comforting as it is empty. How can a pyre offer the same warmth as the person who burns upon it? Liam glances up at Chiron with unshed tears in his eyes and his face set, and they both know the unspoken lesson has been learnt. No mortal attachments, no distractions. Just duty, destiny.

He meets another pair of eyes over the fire, then. Sees the ripples of the same pain washing up on the shores of the presence. The same hurt, the same lesson, just a different life. It is what Dionysus has been trying to tell him all along.

Love is dangerous. Love is dead. He understands. They both do.

*

Liam is technically not too old for this but he definitely _feels_ it, and he’s slightly charred around the edges after slaying the monstrous serpent Delphyne in some swamp in Florida.

_Serpent_, Apollo himself had assured Liam with two thumbs up and a sunny grin, because if anyone knew for sure it’d have to be the god who slayed the beast the first time back in the day, right?

_Fire breathing serpentess of doom,_ no one had correctly informed him.

_Oops, haha. My bad!_ Apollo had laughed apologetically and patted out the flames singeing the sleek plume of Liam’s helm and the barest peek of his clothes in the small gaps of his heavy armour. The armour absolutely not made for mobility and dodging fire breathing serpentesses of doom.

Liam had stared at the sun god so flatly and so thoroughly _done_ Apollo had shuddered and slid his sunglasses back on his face, ran a hand through his dark curls.

“I see you’ve mastered dad’s _and_ Chiron’s _I’m very disappointed in you but expected nothing less_ look.” Apollo mutters. “Which is a weird look to see on your old foster son’s face, I gotta admit. Can’t wait for you to gain immortality and for me to be on the receiving end of that look for all eternity from _you_ too.”

“You’re meant to be the god of knowledge.”

“I left out one minor detail? Sue me.”

Liam silently gestures with his melted, blackened shield to his melted, blackened armour. 

“.....slightly major detail. Don’t tell dad I almost got his favourite mortal son killed.”

Liam sighs. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” And Apollo beams (literally) and slings his arm around Liam’s aching shoulders.

“I’ll totally make it up to you when you’re immortal.” Apollo promises with a little squeeze, but Liam doesn’t see the brittle smile drop from Apollo’s hard face when he turns away.

*

Mr. D raises his goblet of Pepsi at Liam’s approach. “The crispy champion returns.” 

The grass next to the god is lush and green, swaying lightly in the fresh breeze. There’s a whole meadow to use as a seat and yet the empty spot next to Mr. D looks the most tempting. He does not budge when Liam plants himself next to him and for a moment Liam thinks he might even offer him his goblet. He doesn’t.

"It was spitting fire," Liam says.

"I can see that. How many orange shirts have you gone through since you’ve been here?"

"I didn’t count."

"Pity."

"I don’t like orange."

"I wanted them red but Chiron didn’t get the joke so I dropped it."

"By the way, it was spitting _fire_." He turns his head. "That wasn’t in the book."

Mr. D doesn’t seem concerned. Or impressed that Liam got out of it anyway. "If you want to be a real hero you need to face your own monsters and quests, not the ones of heroes who came before you." He stops himself. "I sound like Chiron, I don’t like it. Anyway, Lester, you better hurry up before they cancel your golden statue. I heard it’s going to be ten feet tall."

"There's still time." Liam grumbles and Mr. D raises his eyebrows, turning around slowly to level him a considering stare.

"Oh? Is that regret I hear?"

"No." Liam says honestly. "But there are plenty of demigods who deserve a statue more than me. I shouldn't get one just because of our father."

"On the contrary," Mr. D drawls with faint bitterness. His bloodshot eyes are resentful. "It's _precisely_ because of our father."

Liam bites the inside of his cheek and mulls it over. Again he finds himself idly wondering the difference between a prophecy and a curse, not that it makes any difference to him and the path he has to walk.

It was written long before he was born, spilt from the lips of an oracle with flaming red hair and freckly, paint speckled cheeks. Liam will never forget the day Tess had recited it to him because it was the one and only time he ever needed to hear it. It etched straight into his soul, his bones, his heart. With his dying breaths he could recite it.

But where did - who he was - and - who the prophecy prophesied him to be - end? Where did reality and expectation end or meet? It was suffocating at times but it was his burden to bear, and bear it he did, flawlessly. On the outside.

The only people he felt he could confess his doubts and weaknesses to were Chiron, Caeli, and Niall. Niall was his best friend, Caeli knew him better than he knew himself and Chiron had been more of a father figure to him than his own father had ever been. He says as much to Mr. D.

"Well he's _not_. It's his job. Literally. You're just another name to his endless list, just another demigod in his ranks."

"You don't mean that."

"No, I don't. He hasn't loved a demigod like you since Pablo Johnman."

"Because that never gets old." Liam rolls his eyes and stands up, stretching his arms high up over his head. 

"I hope you know the fate of the entire world rests upon your shoulders, o champion." Mr. D sighs flatly with bored disinterest when Liam’s walking away down the path that leads back to the cabins. Liam wonders if his half brother realises he also actually lives in the world that Liam's meant to save.

“How could I forget?” Liam asks no one in particular.

*

A drayd sits upon a rock, the dark sheen of her skin making her look like she’s growing out of it, a mop of light hair crowning her head. Young demigods sit to her feet and wait patiently for her to start her story, written down in something that has yet to grow into a book. So many empty pages to fill with heroic deeds and a life that will end one day. That will turn into a lesson for other demigods. It has a beginning though and it starts like any other story.

"There was the king of the gods, Zeus, who fell in love with a mortal woman. She was kind and loving and lived for the harsh winds on her face just as much as she loved the slow trickles of rain against her windows. Her neighbours would hide behind four walls to protect themselves from the thunder _but not her_.

"She welcomed the storm with open arms until Zeus returned her embrace in a hurricane that almost ruined all lands. On that day a hero was conceived. The moirai knew he would achieve greatness and strung his fate in the strongest silver thread, so no one may attempt to cut it. They left an empty spot in the night sky so no one may attempt to take his place. His fate should change all fates of the mortal world and the gods rejoiced, for a new era had arrived. This hero would lead the gods back into the world.

"Only one evil would stand between him and his victory. A monster, I would say. They had four arms to kill double the enemies, four legs to crush double the cities, and two mouths to spew double the lies. They knew what this hero was meant to be, so they cursed him. They tainted his fate. And so it was that our beloved hero did not breathe when he was born, and neither did his mother."

There is a dramatic pause for the shocked gasps spilling from tiny mouths. The dryad smiles.

"Don’t fret, little ones. I know that all seems lost but the mother didn’t give her life for nothing. He is a hero, you see? Heroes are strong and this hero is a son of Zeus, god of the sky. The god mourned his son’s death but only for a little mortal while until lightning struck the hospital that our hero was in. Do you know what happened then?"

The suspense was almost killing the demigods.

"He lived," she whispers. "Strong as his father he brought himself back to life and came here to live with you. To train with you. To save you and all of us."

"What’s his name?" One child asks while slapping their friend’s knee.

"Liam," the dryad answers and closes the book. "Liam Payne, Son of Zeus."

Being all familiar with that name they all turn their heads, looking at the boy in the back who cradles a tiny baby eagle to his chest.

*

He should be training. Well, he should usually _always_ be training but to be specific he should be at the lake sparring with his cousin Triton, hydrokinesis versus Liam’s aerokinesis, but the amphitheatre in camp is thrumming, music brimming, and Liam can’t resist its pull.

He’s not even sure what play he’s watching (but if he had to guess it’s definitely gotta be some mashup of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and _High School Musical_) but the majority ensemble of children of Apollo, Aphrodite and Athena captivate and delight their audience and Liam both.

He desperately wishes he was up there, longs for the spotlight of a stage and a song instead of one of a prophecy and duty.

The first time he’d showed an interest in the arts when he was a child Chiron had been nothing but encouraging, gifting him numerous tomes, paints, easels, notebooks, a golden lyre, even a _loom_. He was all for enriching one's life and had been Liam’s eager audience of two along with Niall when Liam performed the first song he’d ever written.

It brought to Liam a happiness and escape he never thought possible. He sat in on jam sessions with Niall and the Apollo cabin, wrote and composed with them from dawn until dusk. He learnt the intricacies of forging from the Hephaestus cabin, mastered to dance the border between sophistication and wit with help from the Athena cabin. He even attempted the _loom_, and Chiron only laughed when Liam threatened to blast it with a bolt of lightning if he ever saw it again. (He was only joking. Mostly)

It was short lived though, it had to be. Liam understood when Chiron tightly told him one day out of the blue that it was _suggested_ that it was time to focus on _more important, practical skills_, as fitting for the scion of Olympus. Liam could hear the quotation marks a million miles away.

"You are the son of Zeus--"

"Really?" Liam grins. "Never would've guessed."

Chiron smiles. "You are the son of Zeus," he repeats, "and you have been raised as such. But you cannot rely on the abilities of other demigods. Healing, fighting, stealth, ingenuity, strategy. You need to master them all, _heredis_. You need to make a choice."

So his notebooks were stored away and forcefully forgotten, replaced with armour and weaponry and his scrolls from Chiron’s lessons. He watched wistfully as the children of Apollo created music and plays. Only when watching became too hard he turned his back and listened.

Liam starts as the audience bursts into applause and cheers. The campers onstage join hands and bow low with bright grins, except for the dark haired boy who helped create the tree he is playing now and fell asleep with his face pressed into the sharp edge of its cutout. The moon is high in the sky already. Liam should’ve been at the lake hours ago.

_Shit_, Liam thinks, whirling on the spot and dodging tree branches as he sprints through the forest to the lake. _Triton is gonna be_ so _pissed_.

While he idly contemplates how merciful Triton might be feeling tonight (meaning was Triton going to drown him quickly or slowly or maybe just bite his head off to save himself the effort) Liam spots the abandoned pavilion sat on a low wooded hill he found during a game of capture the flag one drizzly afternoon.

It’s a quaint, unimposing thing and classically Greek in structure. It stands proudly if forgotten, faintly rusted white and rising in a peak no taller than the trees towering above and around it.

He can’t spare it much more than a lingering look because his familicidal fate is in his cousin’s hands, but later that night laying in bed he can’t deny the irresistible pull and slips out of his bunk on silent feet.

“You’re going to get caught.” Caeli warns in a sing-song whisper.

Liam grunts and quietly closes the cabin door shut behind them. “That’s a problem for future me to deal with.”

Caeli snorts and takes flight, gliding low above the ground and into the forest line like a shadow in the moonlight. Liam jogs after her and it’s easy to follow her trail when she purposely leaves it for him. Caeli’s already waiting for him when he finally picks his way through the forest and back to the tiny amphitheater, but she’s not alone.

There’s a young woman stood in the centre of the pavilion, arm outstretched for Caeli to perch on and stroking back Caeli’s ruffled feathers. Liam can practically hear Caeli _cooing_ as he bounds up from the foot of the hill.

In the streaming moonlight the proud cut of her profile looks carved of marble, straight from Ancient Greece or the metropolitan museum in the city, like she was born to stand there, ethereal and ageless. He’d know her anywhere. His favourite muse.

“Here he is! The main act.” She grins and her voice is so melodious and beautiful Liam has tears in his wide eyes as he sinks to his knee immediately in a low bow. He’s speechless but has a thousand things buzzing about in his head and absolutely no idea where to start.

“_Lady Euterpe_.” Liam pretty much gasps when he remembers that Chiron did in fact teach him how to speak and also politeness. The muse of music only grins wider and rushes over to take his hands and excitedly haul him back up from the ground. He lets her, starstruck.

The moon dips behind the clouds and even though the glamour fades just a little she’s just as beautiful and awe inspiring in a way that has Liam’s heart racing and his fingers itching for a notebook. She doesn’t look much older than him, her hair is dark and hangs in a ponytail of dreadlocks over her shoulder. Her skin is darker than her hair and peppered with freckles. There’s a pair of chunky headphones wrapped around her neck, a shining silver ring through her lip and nose and a guitar case leant against one of the columns of the pavilion.

A modern muse. Liam feels like he can breathe again.

“Call me Euterpe, my dude!” She squeezes his hands, almost bouncing on the spot in excitement. “Gods Liam, it’s so good to finally meet you. Like, you have no idea!”

Liam thinks he might actually die. His all time favourite muse wanted to meet _him_? Oh _gods_, kill him, the memories of all the times he left her little offerings and scribbled little lyrics in her honour come rushing back to him. He flushes and lets go of her hands to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck and pretends like he’s not fighting the urge to ask for a selfie.

“I really don’t want to be rude but I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

“The same reason as you. I heard your heart call out.” She pats a many-ringed hand to his chest. “It’s not a _muse_ you need, not really. Just the chance. You want to write, to create, to feel music. And that’s what this is, that’s why I’m here. Tell me Liam,” she spins back to the centre of the pavilion with a fierce grin and spreads her arms wide just as the moon bursts from behind the clouds. “Are you feeling inspired?”

*

Louis spies the young girl like a proverbial duck out of proverbial water and he sees the mounting, flaring panic in her green eyes as she searches the crowds of the dining pavilion on her tiptoes. Louis knows every single person in camp (and has enough individual dirt on each of them to bury them all six feet under) but he’s never seen this kid before in his life.

_Fresh meat_, Louis sighs internally.

Still, even a lone barely twelve year old girl with wide, nervous eyes couldn’t come off more of a newbie even if she literally had the word scribbled in sharpie across her forehead under her black bangs, and taking into account it probably _is_ her first day (poor kid) she’ll be spending the foreseeable future in the Hermes cabin (poor fucking kid, his heart truly bleeds for her) so the sharpies are only a matter of time.

There was...._business_ Louis had to take care of when she was probably shown to the empty bunk in the overcrowded cabin that would serve as her home until her actual godly parent saw fit to claim her. She probably got stuck with the creaky top bunk, the one in the draughty corner with the missing ladder. 

_Bottom of the food chain. Fresh fucking meat_. Louis’ sigh is external this time, and frustrated.

Unbidden, he thinks back to when he was her age. He was so enthralled with it, couldn’t wait to forgive and forget the lifetime of resented absence because surely his dad (whoever he was) was super busy with super important god stuff and surely he’d make it up to Louis now that he was home, at camp. Louis couldn’t wait to be claimed and leave the crowded cabin and discover his powers, couldn’t wait to finally _belong_.

The head counsellor of the Hermes cabin at the time had smiled sympathetically at him and ruffled his hair (the same shade as her own) and said, “I’d be getting comfortable here if I were you.”

He thought she was just being nice, being realistic in that he’d have a while to wait, never gave it much thought or the obvious signs.

She died two months later, beheaded by a sphinx whilst trying to save some demigods who’d wandering into the labyrinth. Hermes claimed him a year later like nothing more than an afterthought.

Louis grimaces and pushes the memory out of mind and pushes his food around his plate. He can’t resist glancing back up at the kid though, she could end up being his little half-sister after all. Not that he has any loyalty to anyone other than himself in the first place, especially fraternal or sororal loyalty. Gods forbid _paternal_ loyalty.

He tosses his fork down and makes a decision. Who knows, this could be the making of them both. He’s half risen out of his seat, food forgotten, when someone beats him to it, cuts in front of him like he doesn’t even exist.

“Hey there,” The Someone says, all kindness and warmth and _fucks_ sake, Louis knows that voice. The Someone kneels down to not seem imposing. “Do you need any help?”

Fucking perfect. Absolutely topnotch and exactly what Louis’ patience needs at this exact precise moment. Wonder Boy. Liam fucking Payne, the pride of their world.

The little newbie campmate wrings the hem of her too-large ugly orange camp shirt in fretting hands, but like every other sorry fucker in camp (and yes, okay, Louis is included in that collective too, sue him) there’s no ignoring Liam’s presence, no hope at all.

The kid had been looking around frantically before but now Liam is all she can see. He’s like the sun, no light or life without him, born for everyone to revolve around him and everyone born to die without him (literally, if what he’s heard of The Prophecy Bullshit is true)

You’d think Liam was Apollo’s son if there was a chance in Hades you could miss how _painfully_ obviously he’s the son of Zeus. It’s etched into his entire being; the almost regal way he bears himself, the pride, the leadership. The sheer power he has both in and out of the arena. The stormy eyes, the timeless cut of his handsome profile. He’s a modern day hero of old, straight out of their history.

There’s also the underlying temper he keeps under tight control, a righteous fury that’s completely a child of Zeus. Louis hasn’t seen it fully but he knows it’s there just crackling under Liam’s surface, brewing like a storm. It makes the hairs on the back of Louis’ neck stand on end, makes his mouth water in anticipation.

Louis hates him. Liam is everything he hates about their world. He wants nothing more than to claw his perfect, handsome face out and drag him kicking and thrashing into the mud with the other unworthies.

Louis watches Liam smile and give her little shoulder a comforting squeeze. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she can actually get the words out and even when she does they’re barely loud enough to hear over the din of the dining pavilion.

“I-I can’t find the cabin person who was meant to be meeting me here. I can’t remember her name, I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re staying in the Hermes cabin right?” Liam’s smile widens when she nods enthusiastically, relieved that he understands. “So that means you’re looking for Tabitha Steele, the head cabin counsellor. Would you like me to wait with you until she gets here or--“

“Holy Hera,” Louis rolls his eyes exasperatedly. It bursts out of him like a long held breath. Passing campmates peer at him warily, darkly, curiously, and a mixture of all three. His fellow children of Hermes sat around him barely even glance up, used to his outbursts and general devilment. “Stop clucking like a mother hen. Oh and speaking of which where _is_ your glorified chicken?”

*

(If Liam had to fill the pages of his book himself he wouldn’t start with the dryad’s story. He wouldn’t start with his birth. He would tell about the irritation, the snark and the grin that takes the literal winds out of his sails. He would start with this.)

*

Never before has the dining pavilion fallen silent so suddenly, not even in mourning after funerals, not even when more than three quarters of the campers braved the world beyond the protection of the camp borders and went home during the holidays.

More than three quarters of the campers are staring at him right now though, staring at the one and only person who would dare to speak to the prophesied saviour of their world with such disrespect, such disregard.

Louis isn’t used to this spotlight. He belongs in the shadows and he always will. But he likes it, he likes being _seen_ for once in his life. The only thing he _doesn’t_ like is that the one person he wants to see him refuses to even acknowledge him.

Louis’ taunt still hangs in the air around them and Liam’s shoulders tightly tense like he’s stopping himself from reacting or moving. Their fellow campers glance between the golden son and the black sheep of camp like they’re watching a tennis match, watching and waiting with held breath and wide eyes.

And then Liam huffs, almost scoffing, and just like that the spell is broken and everyone seems to breathe around them too.

“Just ignore him.” Liam laughs dismissively, simply humouring with his vague acknowledgment and still without even glancing Louis’ way.

When Liam finally turns, Louis catches the wry smile that Liam shares with the giggling newbie girl, mouth quirked in amusement like they’re in on some secret joke just between the two of them and Louis is the punchline.

Louis sees red.

As Liam starts to gently leads her towards a group of head cabin counsellors like the perfect saint he is. Louis scowls and scrambles to his feet to follow after him.

It's rinse and repeat with the two of them, only on some days it's Louis who leaves first, on other days it's Liam. Sometimes Louis doesn't follow him, sometimes he does. He grabs at Liam's shoulder to twist him back around. “Hey! I’m talking to you, Wonder B--“

The wind is suddenly knocked out of him and he’s doubling over as he’s sent skidding backwards, deep imprints left in the dirt where his feet drag. Louis nearly loses his balance. There’s a heavy scent of static in the air and when he looks up the golden-blue light of it curls around Liam’s shoulders and arms like a cape of flowing electricity.

“Did you just fucking do that?” Louis asks wide-eyed and grinning, almost manic in his delight and disbelief. He’s about ten feet further away than he was before and the sheer power thrumming in the space between himself and Liam, even in such a small unleashing glimpse of it, has Louis even weaker at the knees than the shock of what’s just happened.

Liam holds up a hand, palm outward. Louis stops in his tracks like a pet dog and he’s so stupidly jealous of how steady and unshaking Liam’s hand is, yet here he is trembling with something he can’t quite decide on a name for yet. “Don’t push me, Tomlinson.” Liam warns him, a low rumble. “That’s your only warning.”

Louis wheezes sharply, loud enough to send nearby nesting birds scattering frantically into the sky. Even that godsdamn eagle on Liam’s broad shoulder flinches back. It doesn’t appreciate it, not if the way it flares it wings with a piercing screech of its own is anything to go by.

“Really?” Louis drawls, lazily winding his way closer. “Don’t wanna finish what you started, Wonder Boy? Is it _beneath_ you?” Louis sneers. “Am _I_ beneath you?”

“Leave it, Liam,” the talking fucking _bird_ has the nerve to pipe up. “He's right, he’s not worth it.”

Liam’s chest rises and falls tightly with what Louis gleefully hopes is the barely restrained urge to control himself before he slowly turns away. He turns his back on Louis and Louis can’t be having that at all, absolutely not. Liam’s only a purposeful step or two away when Louis cups his mouth and makes chicken noises and then Liam’s whirling on the spot, clenched fist raised.

Louis tastes electricity (Liam), copper (blood flooding his mouth), and the dusty floor in that order. He casually wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles up at Liam towering over him for two whole seconds while the world holds its breath around them. Then he’s thrashing back to his feet and tackling Liam backwards to the ground.

It takes three satyrs, a daughter of Ares, and Chiron himself to pry them apart and even though Louis feels faintly disappointed that Liam only threw one punch in the whole fray before switching to easily parrying, Louis indulges in the pleasure of knowing in that single moment Liam absolutely hated him. Liam hated him enough to compromise his perfect image as beloved camp king who’ll deliver them all from evil, hated him enough to jump down from his golden pedestal and stoop to Louis’ level if just for a single second, a single punch.

Louis swears he’s hard in his jeans just thinking about it. The eagle cawing and clawing at his back though, that’s kind of a turn off.

It’s Chiron’s presence that does the trick though. Beneath Louis all the fight leaves Liam likes it’s been bled from him at the sight of the centaur and they’re finally pulled apart.

Louis hates the disapproval in Chiron’s heavy gaze but he hates even more the fact he hates it at all because he’s done just fine (mostly fine?) without anyone’s fucking approval so fucking far. Not including his mum, of course, who he would eagerly and happily kill and die for. But he’s at camp most of the year and she’s not here and he’s alone. He doesn’t need Chiron’s approval (but maybe it’d be nice, just once?)

“Fighting outside of the arena.” Chiron says to Liam with a hard look on his face. “I am severely disappointed, Liam. I expect better from you.”

Liam sniffs and nods stiffly, nose a bloodied smear. “Sorry, Chiron.”

Chiron considers him silently. “Seeing as this is your first incident I’ll let you off with a warning--”

“Typical.” Louis mutters to the satyrs holding him back.

“--but any repeat behaviour like this and your father will be the first to know about it. Am I understood?”

“I understand.”

“Make sure that you do.” Chiron finally turns to Louis, sighing. “And you, Louis, this is your one-hundred-and-seventh recorded incident. That we actually know of. You know the routine.”

Louis sighs too. He knows the routine. “Washing up duty with the cleaning harpies for a week.”

“Don’t keep them waiting.” That’s Chiron’s _no arguments, I’m a million years old and eat inconvenient delinquent demigods like you for breakfast, dismissed_ tone and Louis spares Liam one final lingering bloodied smirk before he shrugs off the satyrs, stuffs his hands in his pockets and trudges off to his grimy fate in the kitchens.

*

He’s elbow deep in suds and lava (thank you welding-washing up gloves) when Wonder Boy himself shows up in the steaming kitchens.

Louis never even knew the cleaning harpies Aello, Celaeno, and Ocypete could _smile_ but the way they fawn over Liam like doting grandmothers with gaping, fang filled mouths just goes to show him that he can’t even win over harpies for fucks sake. Or maybe Liam’s just that fucking good (and if Louis has to bite back the sudden urge to snap a porcelain plate in half that’s between himself, his gods, and the towering pile of dirty dishes around him)

Liam hesitates at Louis’ raised eyebrows. “Hey.”

Louis lazily gestures to his aching black eye. “Here to give me a matching set?”

“Here to apologise.” Liam grimaces at the bruise and he shifts, a half-aborted raise of his arm like he wants to raise gentle fingertips to it, touch the visible proof of his lost temper, his momentary weakness. Louis is disappointed when he doesn’t.

“What for?”

Liam frowns. “You know what for.”

Louis leans his hip against the counter and folds his arms across his chest, tilting his head a little. “I know I want to actually hear you say it.”

He watches the twitch of Liam’s suddenly clenched jaw, eyes dragging down Liam’s body to his equally clenched fist. It eventually unclenches with the long, controlled exhale Liam lets out.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper and punching you in the face. I shouldn’t have done it, even if you did deserve it. Which you did. That was very wrong of me.”

_Oh no_, Louis thinks in mild horror, clutching the counter behind him for support. _No, no, no. He’s funny, handsome, powerful, helps lost little kids, and completely out of my fucking league_. Louis is so fucked.

“Well,” Louis says vaguely, like he’s not internally dying. An honest to gods crush on the golden son of Zeus, what the fuck? What kind of disgusting cliché is his life? “I’m glad we can agree I deserved it.”

There’s a genuine if brief tiny smile on Liam’s face. Louis needs to snap a plate in half immediately. With his forehead.

“It’s not fair,” Liam says simply, like that’s that. Move over judges of the dead. “I threw the first punch, I should be punished too.”

“Yeah well. Perks of being Chiron’s favourite. Has he ever even punished you once in your whole life?”

“Of course he has. Just not in the typical extra chores way.”

“Made you switch places with Atlas for the day because you skipped leg day at the arena? A bit of character building?”

“Something like that.” There’s that smile again, warmer and wider this time, fighting back laughter. _Fuck_. “What do you say, room for one more?”

“Fine.” Louis reluctantly agrees, slapping the gloves to Liam’s chest. Their fingers brush when Liam takes them. “But I’m drying.”

*

Louis wants to jump in the lake and ask Poseidon to give him a merciful end because he has _plans_, and those plans definitely do _not_ include a crush on Liam Payne, son of Zeus, the champion that was chosen. He was more than fine lusting and loathing from a safe distance. All of a sudden one conflict and fist fight later, they’re on friendly fucking terms. Which god does he pour one out to for for this miracle?

But slap his arse and call him an oracle. Louis already knows before they’ve even started this won’t end well for either of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you're still sticking around for this! Let's see what the boys are up to next >:)

“So, what’s with the talking eagle?”

Louis easily manages to sneak up on Liam at the lake while Caeli fishes out across the open water and Liam _definitely_ doesn’t startle and reach for a weapon.

“Gods, Louis, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” But despite the heart pounding in his chest and his fingertips tingling with the ebb of sudden adrenaline, Liam isn’t even mad. If anything he’s quietly impressed and loudly intrigued. They’re on the more rustic, inaccessible part of the lake where the sandy beach trails into a gravelly stony shore of pebbles. “How did you creep on the stones? Where did you even come from?”

Louis smirks. “My mum’s va--“

A wet pile of seaweed drops squarely in his face before Louis can finish. Not just dropped either, more like _hurled_ at speed and from height. Louis makes a noise half like a squawk and half like a startled cat and Liam valiantly bites back his laughter as Caeli cuts through the air above them in a sharp turn and lands on his shoulder.

“You _could_ say children of Hermes get where water couldn’t.” Caeli drawls, casually preening a few stray black feathers. “But we don’t like stereotypes much, do we Liam?”

Liam just snorts and shakes his head. So much for first _and_ second impressions. Louis pointedly picks seaweed out of his hair and flicks it away.

“A talking eagle,” he repeats, and it almost sounds like a taunt as he meets Caeli’s suddenly steely gaze with a bored one and Liam’s prepares himself for the worst. “Do you know the American national anthem off by heart?"

"Fuck you, how's that sound?"

"Fair enough." Louis agrees with a smug curve of his mouth and Liam gets the distinct impression Louis is extremely pleased with himself for getting a rise out of Caeli. 

Caeli, however, seems to have reached her tolerance limits for the day and turns her tail feathers on him, spreads her wings and sweeps up into the nearest trees.

"Sorry,” Liam grimaces, torn between feeling mortified and laughing until tears are in his eyes. “She's a bit protective. And…..particular."

"Well isn’t that a nice diplomatic way of saying she hates me.” Louis snorts. “It’s fine, nothing new there. Such a dirty beak on a such a kingly beast though."

"I'll show you dirty beak." Is muttered from the forest line.

"Caeli." Liam warns in a hiss.

"Just banter, Liam." Caeli says, sounding like innocence personified. (Birdified?)

“And for the record seaweed isn't even the worst thing I’ve been assaulted with so your _companion_ seriously needs to step up her game because me? Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t tempt her.” Liam warns and grins a little sheepishly, suddenly demure. Louis probably means he’s still here on the stony beach, still attempting to be friendly with Liam after their impromptu truce, nothing more than that. Despite himself though a wonderful warmth blooms in his chest at Louis’ casually determined tone. It feels like hope, budding in his heart like a flower ready to blossom.

Liam has friends, of course, but he can’t help but notice the glaringly obvious one-sided idolising nature of most of them, if not all. They put him on an unreachable pedestal, there’s nothing equal about relationships like that and isn’t that the point of them? He may be a demigod, may be the destined hero of a centuries old prophecy, but he's still human.

The only person who’d ever treated him as such was Niall. Niall was the only exception, his truest and dearest friend. After being raised in a golden spotlight and years of being taught that he was different to everyone, he was _special_, it had been such a suffocating relief to Liam that he’d cried when Niall had treated him like a normal person and cried even more when he found out how similar himself and Niall were.

He cried because maybe, just maybe, with Niall’s kindness and friendship he could be a normal demigod, just like Niall was.

They became inseparable as children and Liam revelled in and treasured everything they shared in common; they both had the middle name James, they were both born under the sign of Virgo, they were both immensely powerful beyond their young years, though Niall prefered to keep his a secret for reasons Liam wouldn't understand for years yet to come.

But as fast as they became best friends, that’s how quickly they drifted apart. With each passing season the expectations grew and the responsibilities Liam was presented with mounted and he had to be strong enough, in every possible way, to bear them. He doesn’t remember bidding farewell to his youth and his best friend, it faded away like a memory and in its place takes the true understanding of the prophecy forever looming over him, the reality of it. The consequences, the sacrifice, the rewards.

Liam knows now, has sweated and sobbed and bled to realise that his fate is an honour, his father’s greatest gift and blessing. He embraces it fully and truly and can’t begrudge the price of it. It became his life, _is_ his life. It’s the thing he wakes up for each and every morning, the thing he pushes himself to the brink of exhaustion in training for everyday. There’s not a being in their world who doesn’t know who he is and what he’s destined to do. And yet…..

And yet.

It’s a lonely fate.

“--didn’t even think a bird _could_ flip you off but she’s making an amazing attempt.” Louis rambles appreciatively, snapping Liam out of his thoughts. “Who’s her mother? Medusa?”

Liam clears his throat, thick with memory. “No, not Medusa or any of the gorgons.” It’s instinctive, a sudden tug in his chest. Liam makes his mind up before he even thinks about it. It feels like the bravest decision he’s ever made. “I can tell you all about it on the walk back to camp though, if you want to join me?”

Louis levels him a considering if mildly suspicious look. Liam doesn't know what he sees but he makes a decision too. He shrugs and pockets his hands, kicks some pebbles. “Sure, y’know. Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Good.” Liam repeats with a smile.

“Oh gods help me.” Caeli murmurs before she takes off.

"She's beautiful." Louis begrudgingly admits when Caeli is soaring high in the sky above them, leading their way back to camp even though Liam knows these grounds like the back of his hand.

"She's the daughter of Aetos Dios, the eagle of Zeus,” Liam tells him quietly even though he knows Caeli can definitely hear them. It’s a modestly thing really. Hubris won’t be their downfall before they’ve even properly started, Liam is sure. “She was a gift from my father.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Most kids just get an Xbox. But then again most kids aren’t the chosen one.”

Liam smiles and shrugs a shoulder. “She’s not a possession though, not in the slightest. If anyone ever tried calling her my _pet_ she’d peck their eyes out if she thought they were even worth her talons.”

Louis snorts. It’s a nice sound, inelegant and unselfconscious. Liam’s caught by the curve of Louis mouth as he laughs. He wants to hear it again.

“We’re together because we want to be, it’s not like a soul bond or anything magic like that. We’ve been together ever since we were children. Or fledglings as Caeli calls us.”

“The whole world at her wingtips and she chooses to stay here with you.” Louis murmurs, watching Caeli skim across the water.

It’s something Liam’s thought about often but he doesn’t fear a day when he wakes up and she’s not there. She’ll always be with him no matter where she is. He trusts her, knows her like his own soul to be there when he needs her. Their bond is fundamental to who they are.

“Next time you should tell people that you’re _her_ pet.” Louis suggests with a smirk.

“You know what? With the amount of times she’s gotten me out of trouble that’s probably true.”

*

"Promise not to laugh." Liam grins and Louis bursts out laughing immediately. His eyes crinkle shut and his smile is way too big for his face and Liam can't help but laugh too. "Louis! What did I just say?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's a knee-jerk reaction I swear." Louis says behind the palm covering his mouth and muffling his mirth. "C'mon just tell me! It can't be that bad."

"My first name….it's Liamedes."

"Oh Liam."

"I know."

"That's not even funny, it's just tragic."

"It's not _that_ bad."

"Liamedes Payne."

"No, you're right. It's worse."

"It's the only thing I got from my mother." Liam says, awhile after their laughter has died down. "Not to be depressing though."

*

Louis shakes Axel’s hand with a grim expression. Axel Harding is a year younger than Louis and has been his bunk mate for a couple of years now. He is not a child of Hermes, just an unclaimed demigod. With those biceps of his Louis would put all his money on Ares but the god stays silent on the matter. Not the only one. Louis still feels like he was claimed as an afterthought.

"I don’t think you should go," Louis repeats for the tenth time.

Axel drops his hand to lift his bag from the ground. It’s light, without many possessions, a syndrome Louis has witnessed so often. The unclaimed ones are all afraid to settle.

"There’s no point, Lou. I’ll never be claimed and I’d rather try my luck in the real world than stay here and get disappointed every day for the rest of my life. I’m tired."

"I get that."

"No you don’t. Even you have been claimed."

_Even you_. Like Louis is the bare minimum. "So what are you gonna do? School? College?"

"Nah, don't think I'm smart enough for that. I'll find something. Or maybe something finds me."

It's a bitter smile, full of suicidal intentions that have Louis' toenails crawl back. Someone should do something, he thinks. Someone should help. Louis is not a leader or a saviour (that’s _Liam_) and he certainly doesn’t have a god complex.

But if he was strong, if he was powerful like that… He’d know what he would do.

*

Liam notices the surprised look on Louis’ face. "What?"

"You were singing. Under your breath."

Liam inhales sharply. He’s normally not doing it unless he’s alone. His bubble of ‘alone’ includes Caeli, sometimes Chiron, and now Louis, apparently.

"I didn’t mean to."

"You sound great." The lack of sarcasm confuses Liam. He doesn’t know how to handle a sincere Louis. "You and your bird must be related."

Ah, there it is. Liam’s brows knit together, his eyes watching Louis’ lips grow into a cheeky little grin. 

"Excuse me," Caeli ruffles her feathers like one would roll up their sleeves before starting a brawl. "Did you just say I sound like a _human_?" The offence in her voice kind of offends Liam.

Louis raises his fist in a mock-fighting stance. "You wanna go another round, Caeli? Just leave my hair alone this time."

"Not my fault it looks like a bird’s nest. Free real estate."

They proceed to lunge at each other playfully and Liam is too stunned to do anything but watch. Caeli likes him, he realises. Caeli actually likes Louis and usually they like and dislike the same people. They both love Chiron and Mr. D, they both kind of hate the Hades kid who hides around corners to scare others. Does he like Louis then?

When Louis scrambles after Caeli with his tongue gleefully pressed against the corners of his mouth she flees with a screech. She occupies her familiar place on the tree behind Liam and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her _snigger_ before.

"Oh, I see how it is," Louis mutters. "Think I can’t catch you?"

Liam’s mouth drops open at Louis’ smirk, his toe casually tapping the ground to make the wings on his shoes unfurl. They lift him off the ground and all Liam can do is watch him and Caeli chase each other in the sky. He doesn’t really understand what he’s feeling until Louis’ feet reconnect with the earth and Caeli’s claws with the broad expanse of Liam’s left shoulder, her favourite shoulder. With his eyes wild and his hair pointing into all the four winds Louis looks invincible, boundless. It makes Liam want to step closer until their bodies collide.

"See you later," Louis hums after a confusing staring competition and Liam is proud of himself for managing to lift his hand in a goodbye.

It continues like that, the sweet bickering between the two of them. Louis pokes at one of her wings - Caeli hops from Liam's shoulder to nip at his heels. A black eagle to match a black sheep, Liam thinks ruefully, something warm blooming like a flower in his chest.

*

The first time the urge to kiss Louis boils hot in his stomach is a month later in the arena. A day so warm that sweat even trails down your forehead when you’re not moving. Louis pushes a plumed helm up and over his head with the heel of his palm and leaves it exactly where it lands on the dusty ground. He grimaces at the strength of the sun and limps over to their stuff left on the curved stone seating of the arena.

He takes a long swig of water from his bottle and Liam watches the strong muscles of his neck flex as he swallows. Louis is sweaty and sunkissed, hair a rumpled mess and eyes bright and he’s the most beautiful thing Liam’s ever seen.

But then he thinks of honeysuckle, of soft cheeks and the smell of burnt flesh in his nose. He didn’t forget the lesson he had learned.

*

Liam is furious as he stabs the last of the dragons with his spear, a shred of lightning frying its brain for an instant death. Caeli lands on top of it with blood on her beak.

"Liam, I think I saw Chiron by the cabins."

He doesn’t respond, tapping the ground once with Storm Bringer to force it back into the shape of a pen. He runs as fast as he can with Caeli above him and the first thing he notices is the dark smoke rising from the Demeter cabin.

"Chiron!"

He turns on his hooves, deep lines of concern fading into relief when his eyes settle on Liam.

"Welcome back. Is it done?"

"Of course," Liam answers. The damage is severe but nobody seems hurt. Only a child of Demeter is crying her eyes out as a son of Poseidon consoles her. "Was anyone killed?"

"No."

"How did they cross the camp border?"

"We don’t know." Chiron turns away from the cabin to rest his hand on Liam’s shoulder and lead him away. To the big house. "Hecate’s spell is still intact."

"And they didn’t rise?"

"No."

Liam sucks in a breath. As the goddess of magic Hecate had created a divine border to protect camp half-blood from all kind of threats. Should it ever break, demigods who had died defending the border would rise from the ground to resume their task. The fact that neither worked concerns Liam to no end.

Mr. D opens the door of the big house for them and immediately starts ranting about lazy gods and shitty spells. It doesn’t slip Liam’s attention how he and Chiron keep exchanging nervous glances.

"No one died," Liam repeats, interrupts. "But something happened."

Chiron always looks at Liam like the hero he ought to be, the hero that he _is_. But sometimes his gaze shifts into something soft, like he wants to protect Liam from the truth.

"Ten demigods went missing in the past couple of weeks. Another three today."

"Missing?" Liam hisses. "You said they left Camp Half-Blood."

"Because that’s what we thought," Mr. D chimes in, a can of Pepsi dangling from his fingers. "They left with all of their belongings but today's incident made us wonder."

"You think someone kidnapped them," Liam concludes.

"Most likely." Chiron rubs his chin, almost deep in thoughts.

"We have a traitor in our camp."

Liam almost jumps. He didn’t see Tess lounging on the couch with one arm tucked under her head.

"Tess," he wheezes. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes." She rolls her eyes. "You’re a terrible hero. Could’ve stabbed you."

"No, you couldn’t," Caeli bristles from the window still, never far from Liam’s side. He reaches out to stroke her beak and she immediately starts to curr.

"A traitor. Did you see them?" Chiron asks, ignoring the banter.

"Nope, but I know there’s one. And they’re stealing demigods to build an army."

Both ice and fire threaten to eat Liam alive. The excitement of proving himself and the fear of facing an army that he cannot beat. "What kind of army?"

Her carefree smile fades, swallowed by the void. "They’re after golden blood."

*

"A traitor?" Louis seems baffled. "And you think it’s all part of your prophecy?" 

Liam nods as Louis throws another flat stone across the lake. He fails terribly, for the sixth time, and Liam is oddly charmed. He’s not sure why he told Louis about the attack, about the prophecy. He didn’t mean to, but Louis has a way of pushing all his wrong and right buttons at the same time. His heart had felt like it was going to burst with the need to pour it out. Louis was the most terrible choice for secrets but Liam didn’t care.

"Tess mentioned the golden blood from the prophecy so I think it might be. The rhodian dragons were nothing but a distraction." He pauses. "Where were you when they attacked?"

Louis has the nerve to give him a proud grin as he turns around, the setting sun backing him up like the golden halo in a divine painting. "I was hiding under my bed. Couldn’t steal the golden boy’s show, huh?"

Liam is too stunned by the sight to respond and when Louis averts his eyes, brushes his fringe aside (a nervous gesture), he thinks that maybe he isn’t the only one with a growing urge in his chest.

*

Louis has never taken a huge interest in the stars, never really gave camp astronomy lessons the time of day _or_ night. Louis didn’t need anything else in his life to make him feel even smaller or less significant than he already feels. Than he already _was_.

But here under the starry night sky stretching infinite around them it was hard not to feel Liam’s infectious joy, his peacefulness.

_Infectious like a disease_, Louis thinks grumbly for good measure, rubbing a hand over his heart.

“Well. Uh. Pretty cool, huh?”

Liam smiles, sweet and warmth and honey. Stars in his eyes. “Chiron always said the stars hold and mirror the best of us.”

Louis glances at him and back up to the sky. “And that’s where you’ll end up, one day.”

“I want to earn it.” Liam says, all quiet honesty and Louis wholeheartedly believes him. “Not just because of the prophecy. I don’t just want it handed to me, I want to be worthy of it.”

“What about your family?” Louis can’t help but ask. “Everybody you’ll be leaving behind?”

“That’s just it, Lou. The gods are the only family I’ve ever known. They’re unconventional to say the very least but they’re all I’ve got. I have no one here, no one in the entire world except them.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way”

Liam stares at him. “What do you mean?” He asks, but Louis knows he knows. They both do.

*

(The stars are always gazing back. At night they come out to watch the mortal world. And if the universe has mercy, it’ll let them roam the earth. But only two stars have been so lucky since the beginning of time.)

*

The stars are so bright and it almost hurts to look at them. Nothing but silence and two bodies in the soft grass, pressed up next to each other. Their knuckles brush together and Liam forces himself to stay still, to stop breathing, to make it last.

But Louis wouldn’t be Louis if he wasn’t ruining the moment by pointing out a dick-shaped constellation. Liam doesn’t believe him so Louis pulls him closer to press their cheeks together. He points again, but no matter how hard Liam tries, all he sees is stars. All he feels is Louis. 

Then there’s a shaky breath where Louis’ skin was before. He knows what’s waiting for him in case he decides to turn his head and he’s scared. Liam Payne, champion of the gods, who does not fear death, is scared of the mere demigod who lost his position as head counsellor when his sibling challenged him.

"Brave coward," he hears Louis whisper and then all he _sees_ is Louis, too.

He rolls on top of Liam, forces himself into Liam’s field of vision. His smirk is triumphant, as if he’s beaten Zeus’ son himself and he has, in a way. Liam feels disarmed, helpless, unable to move. And Louis? Breathtaking. The black sheep crowned by stars.

"Are you scared of a kiss?” Louis asks. _Not scared_, Liam thinks. _Terrified_. "Don’t be."

Louis tastes of pepsi. His hair smells of the fire that has long gone out. His lips are soft where his stubble is not and Liam feels his head rise from the ground to meet Louis in another kiss. Again. Again. And again.

Heat pools in his heart and the tips of his fingers are buzzing with something that makes Louis chuckle against his mouth. When he tries to pull away Liam uses the newfound leverage to flip them over. He presses Louis into the grass and turns his back on the stars.

*

The day after that they sit by the lake, food and drinks between them because Liam was so busy with his training that he missed dinner.

“They’re really gonna put you out to pasture in the starfield, huh?” Louis gazes at the sky as if he can still see the stars.

Liam can’t help his abrupt snort of laughter. He’s never met anyone with such blatant disregard to eternal infamy. It’s incredibly refreshing. An unbelievable relief. “They are, yes.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “Either way?”

“If you mean whether I fulfil the prophecy or I _die_ fulfilling the prophecy then yes, either way.”

Louis takes a contemplative sip of his drink and he sounds distant when he murmurs. “Yes, that’s what I mean.”

A silence shrouds them, broken only by the crackling of logs on the fire at their feet. It’s foreboding, makes goosebumps rise on Liam’s arms.

“What if you fail and die?” Louis asks suddenly. He’s staring hard at the flames like he’s trying to search for some unseen imagine in them.

Liam shakes his head. “That’s not an option.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Liam.”

“I can. I just have. Decided it years ago, actually.”

“I bet that’s exactly what Heracles and Achilles decided too. Tell me how that worked out for them.”

“We both know how it worked out for them. But I’m _not_ them, Louis.”

He’s expecting a grumble or a scathing remark as usual , end of discussion, but Louis suddenly can’t let this go. “So you’re telling me you’ve decided failure isn’t an option, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me this, Liam. Have you decided whether you’re fulfilling this prophecy to live or to die?”

He has an answer. It’s the answer he’s always had, the one nobody has ever asked him for, the one he’s expected to have. And here’s Louis, who snarked and clawed his way into Liam’s life and Liam wouldn’t have it any other way. He knows Louis won’t like his answer.

“Tell me, Liam.” Louis twists to face him, slamming his hands on the ground, bottle of Pepsi sloshing with the force of it. He’s agitated and hurt already. “Fucking tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Liam says quietly, simply. He tries to ignore the heartbreak and the anger in Louis’ eyes. He knows the heartbreak is for him and the anger for the gods. “It doesn’t matter either way.”

And perhaps the most heartbreaking thing is how Louis reaches out and holds on to him anyway.

*

“Sorry it’s not a marble mansion.” Liam smiles.

“I don’t need that. _We_ don’t need that.” Louis says immediately and flushes at the Look Liam gives him. “I mean, sure the marble mansion would be cool and fancy as fuck but this?” Louis covers the hand Liam has wrapped around the thin column of the amphitheatre with his own. “That’s all I need.”

The biting press of the cold pavilion column at Liam’s back is nothing compared to the wonderful warmth of Louis pressed to his front. Louis holds his waist in firm, gentle hands and he’s leaning in to press his mouth to Liam’s in the softest kiss imaginable.

And then Louis drops to his knees.

“Sing for me.” Louis urges with a sharp grin against Liam’s hipbone.

And Liam does. Almost.

Louis tilts his head back and slides a hot hand under his shirt. He snakes his hand down Liam's taut stomach and liam isn't sure who's the one trembling.

"I can't." Liam gasps. "Gods I want to l, I want _you_ but I can't."

"It's okay. We’ve been over this already."

"No, you need to understand, it's not fair on you, you'd be a target if anyone ever found out I loved--"

"_Love_," Louis repeats when Liam cuts himself off and quickly rises back to his feet, never leaving Liam’s personal space. "Say that again."

Liam hisses and tries to push at Louis. "We _can’t_."

"No, you can’t but I can." He leans in, so close, the memory of their first kiss still tingles on Liam’s lips.

He stops Louis with a hand to his chest, a barrier of sorts.

"Kiss me," Louis insists.

But Liam squirms against the column and thinks about the bigger picture. Can’t Louis see? They keep making mistakes, wonderful mistakes that make Liam feel immortal already but it’s not real.

"I can’t."

The cheshire cat grin looks marvelous on Louis’ face. "That’s alright, I’m a thief after all."

Liam’s hand turns to mush, defeated (again). He couldn’t hold his spear if he tried to, his body betraying him like he betrays his image of the golden son. And oh, he _wants_ to be tainted.

The kiss is so different from their first, so gentle it almost tears Liam apart. Louis pulls away and touches his own bottom lip, like the tenderness surprised him, too. The surprise goes away quickly, rises to determination, and they crash into each other. Lips and arms and legs and bodies, hot enough to melt together.

"Choose me," Louis begs. "_Liam_."

His own fate rings in his ears as he gives the slightest nod.

*

After that Liam finds it hard to look anywhere else. Louis is a constant at the back of his mind and a literal constant in his life. Like a shadow, only he’s warmer. Deep down he knows he needs to stop, deep down they both know how it will end, they talked about it in great lengths. But one look from Louis, one touch, and he gives in.

"What are you smiling about?" Mr. D asks, eyes shifting to a slight squint, sensing Liam’s secret like prey.

Is it? A secret? Not as something he’s ashamed of, but as something he wants to keep for himself. Something untouched by fate or the gods. It won’t last, so why bother telling anyone?

"The sun’s shining," Liam mutters and watches Niall Horan walk past the lake with a brother trailing after him.

Everything good in Liam’s life will end one day. The only thing that will always be there are the gods and the prophecy. Liam has clung to it for so long he doesn’t know how to let go. Doesn’t know how to take Louis’ hand. The constants are shifting, changing into variables, laughing at him.

Mr. D hums. "But it’s raining, Liam."

He blinks at the sky. "Oh."

*

Liam leaves for a quest he insists is more like an errand (who calls favours for a _goddess_ errands? Wonder Boy of course)

He’s gone for the five longest, dullest days of Louis’ whole entire life. It’s so horribly empty without Liam that Louis has to kick the mischief up a notch or ten to keep from literally losing his mind and his patience too.

But in those five (long, _dull_) days comes a realisation to Louis that suddenly a lot of his life involves Liam. Not even just in the now, he finds himself making future plans and idle plans and dreams and Liam’s included in each and every one of them.

It’s an unsettling but weirdly comforting realisation and it’s not in the _desperately can’t cope without you panicked puppy_ way, but a _I feel the best, most at peace and content when we’re sharing our time and space together_ way.

But it fucking hurts because it can never last, not in the way it should, the pretty and painless way, rose petals and _forever_. It’s exactly that, just a dream. But it’s okay, Louis’ got this. He can juggle his head and his heart easy fucking peasy. He has two hands, right? He’s _got_ this.

*

Only problem is he’s a dirty liar and he absolutely hasn’t got this, and what are the chances that when Louis is about to break in and raid the infirmary supply closet for ambrosia and nectar (not a noticeable amount, he can be subtle when he wants) that Wonder Boy himself is rushed inside, cradled in Chiron’s arms.

Louis is so surprised to see him back at camp and unexpectedly _here_ of all specific places it doesn’t really register at first exactly who it is and why they’d need to be rushed into the infirmary in the first place. The only fucking reason.

The worst thing is Liam doesn’t even look injured. Chiron gallops past and Liam looks like he’s just having a little snooze in the afternoon sun, looking the absolute youngest and at peace Louis has ever seen him. Louis doesn’t even have anything to agonise over or to google how fucking fatal it is. You know, just to make him feel better.

But then the dark sheet Liam’s half wrapped in gets caught under Chiron’s hoof and tugged away and Louis is pretty sure he’s never (unintentionally) seen so much blood in all his life. He has a strong stomach but the sight of it leaves him weak kneed and lightheaded.

_How the hell does someone survive bleeding out like that?_ The question buzzes about his empty skull, rattling his teeth with the force of it. There’s a migraine coming on, a panic attack, and the answer is even worse. _They **don’t**._

And it’s definitely all Liam’s blood, it’s not splatter. It’s soaked through from beneath and it’s instinct for Louis to stumble forward and follow after Liam, it’s a pull in his chest that goes beyond his heart and his soul.

Mr. D appears in front of him like a leopard printed brick wall, as good as out of thin air and with a halting hand pressed against Louis’ chest.

“You’re in my way,” Louis hisses, definitely _not_ teary-eyed, definitely fighting off the hysteria bubbling up his throat. “I need to see him.” 

The god of wine gives him a sympathetic look, fake as the day is long. “Absolutely not.”

Louis tries to sidestep him to no avail. Grapevines wrap around his ankles to keep him in place and usually he’d be more than down for that. Not anymore though and definitely not right now. He throws his hands up in frustration when he can’t move. “Why? Since when did you suddenly start giving a damn about him?”

Mr. D looks him up and down with a minute flick of his eyes like Louis is the most pathetic thing he’s ever seen. Louis is used to it. “You truly think you’ll help Chiron’s healing by throwing yourself over that boy’s chest begging The Fates to take you instead? Or something as equally pathetic? Grow up.”

Mr. D shoves him away then, end of conversation. Louis stumbles backwards a step or ten and when he reels back around Mr. D is nowhere to be seen and the doors to the infirmary are firmly shut.

“_You_ grow up.” Louis murmurs and just about restrains himself from sticking his tongue out at thin air. With little choice in the matter Louis spins on his heel and stalks back to his cabin to fume and fret to death in peace.

It makes his skin crawl, makes him want to climb right out of his bones and burn the pile he leaves but he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels helpless, lost, desperate. The only other person who’s ever made him feel this way before was his father, or the absence of his father. And if the gods don’t care about saving Zeus’ favourite son, what hope is there for fools like Louis? Someone should do something.

Louis curls up in his cold, empty bed and resolutely doesn’t think of any god, and whispers a strained, choked, “_please_.”

If anyone’s listening they don’t answer, but he’s used to that too.

Sleep finds him, but it doesn’t even have the decency to be peaceful. It must only be about eight in the morning (still an ungodly hour in Louis’ opinion) when he’s awoken by a rapid tapping on the window of the Hermes cabin.

At first he ignores it because _duh_ but then it gets very annoying very fast and he’s about to launch a pillow at the noise when he actually _sees_ what the noise is.

It’s Caeli. She’s staring two holes into his soul and he’s staggering out of bed and out of his cabin in the same second.

Louis throws the door open and slams it shut behind him on the sleepy groans of his siblings. “Caeli, shit, what’s--”

“It’s Liam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehehehehe


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready?

“It’s Liam.”

This is it, his world teetering on a dagger’s edge. Louis can barely even speak. “Is he--“

“He’s alive.”

Louis inhales quickly and covers his mouth with his palm, glances up at the sky. It’s the closest he’s ever come to actually wanting to make an offering of thanks to the gods. It passes just as fast though but the relief is so very visceral he has to brace his shaky arms on the wooden railing of the cabin porch. He hangs his head and takes a few deep, steadying breaths.

Caeli hops over from the windowsill to perch beside the white knuckled grip he has clenched around the railing. “Was someone worried?”

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly, watching his early-bird campmates laughing and joking around the cabin grounds like the love of his life hadn’t just been dying a few hours ago. They’re so painfully young, so innocently ignorant. They have no idea. “Yeah, something like that.”

Caeli sighs. “You’re having a moment.”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“He’s awake. He wants to see you.”

“I’m having a moment.”

“Oh, I’ll just go tell him before the gallons of ambrosia and nectar knock him back out for another twelve hours.”

“Shut up. What even fucking happened to him?”

“He got shot.”

Louis grimaces. “An arrow?”

“A gun.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up.”

“Cross my heart. I saw it happen.”

“A _gun_?”

“A gun.” Caeli repeats firmly. “Some jumped up cyclops kidnapped a dryad, a favoured daughter of Hephaestus. Five whole days tracking them and they took us pretty close to the border of Camp Jupiter, right up to the river. Well, the stupid idiot cyclops carrying her fell _into_ the river. Neither of them could swim and the stupid idiot Liam dived right in after them. He lost the curse of Achilles and when he rose from the river some random mortals nearby must’ve seen through the mist or something. They aimed at the cyclops but they hit Liam.”

“Typical,” he scoffs to drown his concerns.

He thinks if Caeli could smile she would. “Go to him.”

Chiron guards The Big House like a lioness who protects her injured cub. _Touching_, Louis thinks and opens his mouth.

“Don’t make him laugh.” Is Chiron’s only warning before he trots off.

Louis closes his mouth and files away the joke he was about to crack for another time. Maybe next Tuesday.

*

“I missed you.” Liam says, almost breathlessly. Not even the Little Tiber river took his breath away the way Louis does.. “I missed you so much.”

Louis scoffs and flushes and makes a terrible show of acting like he doesn’t. “It was only five days, Liam.”

“Five long days.” Liam corrects and there it is, there’s that smile, finally. Liam feels healed already just looking at it.

Louis quietly beams, rubs the back of his neck. He doesn’t know, does he? The effect he has on people, on _Liam_. He sees the movement of Louis’ hand twitching at his side and smiles tiredly.

“You can touch me, Louis.” Liam squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden sharp ache in his ribs. His wounds or his heart? Take your pick. “I think we can probably get away with that right now.”

Louis still glances over his shoulder at the silhouette of Chiron outside the room through the shuttered windows. At the same time Louis’ hand slips under the covers, barely noticeable, a true son of Hermes. His fingers run gently over the palm of Liam’s hand and find their way to hold on to him.

Louis runs his free hand through his hair and sighs. “What kind of self respecting demigod gets themselves shot? With a _gun_? Honestly Liam, you’re a disgrace.”

It’s so unexpected but so typically, wonderfully _Louis_ that Liam genuinely worries he’s torn his fresh stitches from trying not to laugh too hard. He collapses back into the rock hard infirmary bed and wheezes painfully.

“_What did I say_?” Comes Chiron’s weary, muffled voice from outside.

Louis grimaces and glances at the door warily but he doesn’t let go of Liam’s hand. He squeezes it and drags a gentle thumb over Liam’s raw, split knuckles.

“Ignore him,” Liam gasps, grinning despite the flare of pain that leaves him seeing stars. “He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t slept. He was up all night putting bandaids on my internal organs along with half of the Apollo cabin.”

“I always ignore him.” Louis murmurs distractedly. He stares at their joined hands and the silence that settles around them is heavy. “You’re not really a disgrace, Liam.”

Liam snorts but his heart still soars in his chest. “I know.”

“_I_ don’t think you’re a disgrace.” Louis clarifies, imploring. “Biggest bravest reckless idiot with a messiah complex and heart of gold I’ve ever met, but not a disgrace.”

Liam gives Louis’ hand a little squeeze and quietly says, “I know.”

Louis nods and squeezes back. “Good.”

Eventually the lull of the nectar in his veins is too much of a tempting pull and Liam falls asleep like that, with Louis’ warm hand in his own and the midday sun leaking through the shutters of the window, lighting the cheeky cut of Louis’ face golden.

*

He gets kicked out of the infirmary pretty soon after that but not before he gets his fill of watching Liam peacefully sleeping.

Chiron even gives his shoulder a little fatherly squeeze of thanks as he passes and Louis is so taken by surprise that he doesn’t even shrug it off or meet it with a scathing remark or joke.

Approval and the seeking of approval is a dangerous thing and something he’s not used to. He doesn’t want to start, no matter how fleetingly good and right it felt. There’s no time for distractions like that.

Louis drifts around camp all day and it passes by in a blur. He eats, he trains, he good-naturedly terrorises a select few of his fellow campmates, he eats again and then finds himself down at the lake.

The sun is just dipping behind the horizon and the water is alive with an amber glow and nothing should be so beautiful when Liam isn’t there to appreciate it too.

Louis idly kicks at some driftwood and plants a foot in each puddle of sea-foam he finds and definitely doesn’t do any soul searching, none at all. He finds a metal bench along the shoreline that just screams (not literally though because that would be terrifying) the Hephaestus cabin (he wouldn’t put it past them though)

He sits and gazes out across the water and it’s not long until he feels a sharp gust of precise air. His head snaps up on instinct of being hunted but he knows who it is.

“Hey, Pidge.” Louis murmurs when Caeli lands silently beside him. “How goes it?”

Caeli shrugs, a slight lift of her wings. “Can’t complain. Much.”

“How goes Liam?”

“Sleeping. Has been for the past six hours and will be for the next six.”

“Good. Gods know the idiot needs it.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“I believe you. Bird brains think alike, huh?”

For some reason she doesn’t leave and the silence stretches on. Louis is not the quiet type and neither is Caeli but it’s comfortable in a way one usually only sees her with Liam. Still, when she speaks again he almost flinches.

“I want to thank you. For being to him what I can’t be. It’s always been just the two of us and we wouldn’t change that but I know he gets lonely and I know how he feels about you.”

Louis’ heart flutters in his chest and he fights the grin threatening to split his face. “How does he feel about me?”

Caeli levels him a _nice try_ look. “I just....I’m glad you’re in his life. Our lives.” She turns to leave but then pauses and glances at him over her wing. “But if you _do_ hurt him I’m not above pecking your liver out. Or your eyes. Or your heart. And that’s a promise.”

*

Liam looks tired, pale, exhausted from almost dying and losing his curse. Louis flings himself at Liam, pushing at his shirt.

"Louis. What--"

"Let me see."

"See what?"

Louis tsks and finds what he’s been looking for in all kinds of shapes and colours. From a deep purple that looks almost black to a sickly yellow that has barely faded. Louis covers each bruise with his mouth, tasting the proof of Liam’s survival with his tongue, salty and warm. His fingers push into Louis’ hair almost desperately and his head tips back all on its own.

Liam’s easy smile is gone from his mouth, lips parted for a heavy breath that has built up under his bruised chest. Louis wants to kiss him better, wants to suck all that burden and misery out of his mouth, spit it into the void where it belongs. Where nothing can hurt Liam ever again. He doesn’t even recognise himself when he’s with Liam. It’s like he’s more himself with him, not the persona he built around himself to survive. With Liam he is _thriving_.

"I’m so fucked in the head for you," Louis mutters quietly, a lovesick sin he can only confess to Liam.

Liam answers with a kiss to his lips and they breathe heavily through their noses so they don’t have to part. Louis’ fingers climb up Liam’s spine and take the fabric with them, pushing it under Liam’s armpits until he lifts his arms to let Louis pull the shirt off.

Wonder boy is not the type of hero to let himself be pushed around and Louis is not the kind of guy to _push_. But here they are, Louis dragging Liam into the grass, not giving a flying fuck about the gods above and the terrors underneath. They keep their eyes locked as they undress each other with clumsy hands, Liam’s still cold and sweaty where Louis’ burn with need.

"Don’t die," Louis whispers another confession. He needs to shut his fucking mouth but he can’t stop himself from blurting out everything that spills over the edge of his heart. "You can’t fucking die."

"I didn’t." He tells it like a promise for the future and Louis wants that. A future. And Liam.

"I want you." He climbs into Liam’s lap and they grab for the other’s neck at the same time, mouths colliding. Louis can taste it on him, can taste the remains of nectar that helped Liam recover and Louis wants to scream, wants to weep, cause all he tastes is Liam. 

_That wasn’t the plan_. But Louis always has terrible plans anyway so he might as well.

The gasp he feels against his lips when he grinds into Liam’s lap is delicious. The friction keeps them both grounded for a while, gives them time to kiss and whisper things that are not meant for other ears.

It takes a while but then Louis stretches himself out on Liam’s dick, grinning at wonder boy’s wide eyes because first times tend to leave an impression.

"Fuck," Liam moans and it gives Louis a glorious thrill.

"You like that?" Louis asks, desperate to hear how many swear words Liam actually knows. Like a vocabulary test that Liam can’t fail because Louis would be that kind of teacher who pulls everyone through. _Fuck the system_.

"Yeah," Liam chokes when Louis’s thighs meet his and they can’t keep looking at each other then, only _feel_.

"Good."

It’s hard to keep a steady rhythm, Louis kind of wants to just stay like this for a few eternities, anchored to Liam so that he can’t leave and get himself killed. He bends down to press their foreheads together, his hands aligning with Liam’s to push them into the grass next to his head. Liam is his to ruin and his to love. 

_Love_. Gods.

Liam doesn’t fight him, doesn’t want to. He just lets Louis do whatever he wants. And Louis relishes in each groan and gasp falling from Liam’s mouth. He quickly learns which angle and which twist of his hips has the muscles in Liam’s arms tense up. He learns how many seconds of not moving it takes until Liam whines and jerks his hips. He learns how to be cruel. Learns how to be kind. He doesn’t want to make Liam’s first time a disappointment.

"You can touch me," Louis breathes and feels where the sweat has glued his hair to his forehead. He doesn’t even have to tell Liam where, doesn’t have to encourage him, his hands slip out from underneath Louis’ to touch his back. They slide down to his arse and Louis knows it’s a nice one that many envy him for. Liam squeezes as he watches Louis’ face for a reaction. Liam doesn’t just get off on the slick heat that can easily be replaced, he gets off on _Louis_.

Louis moans and sits up some more, hands on Liam’s shoulders now as he bounces. He spares a glance at the sky when he shakes his hair out of his eyes, almost hoping Zeus watches them. He wants the god of thunder to know that his son is more than part of a prophecy.

"Louis," Liam practically begs but Louis doesn’t know what he’s begging for.

"What?" Louis asks with a grin. "Want to come?"

He takes one of Liam’s hands in his and guides it to his aching cock, wraps his fingers around him the way he likes it.

"Make us both come," Louis orders and Liam follows. 

It doesn’t take long and that’s absolutely alright with Louis. He watches Liam fall apart underneath him, purple and green and yellow joined by a delicious red that spreads over Liam’s whole body when he comes. Louis adds white ribbons to it when he can’t hold back anymore and almost collapses with the relief.

"I love you." The words just slip out of Liam’s fucking mouth without any warning, Louis doesn’t even have time to recover from the first earthquake before the second one hits him. Those fucking words. They have enough power to rearrange Louis’ guts, to squeeze his heart hard enough for the love to pour all out. Stupid heart. Louis wants to tear it out. Maybe feed it to Caeli after all and be done with it.

"Fucking--" Louis grabs Liam’s face with both hands and kisses him, both so much out of breath that it can barely be called kissing. "I love you. I fucking love you, too."

"Louis." Liam whimpers. "Louis."

Like _Louis_ and _I love you_ means the same. Gods, Louis feels loved. He feels loved and it hurts so good.

*

Liam unfolds the piece of paper and thumbs over the kink in the middle. It’s not a long and well thought out farewell letter. It’s not a promise of return. It’s nothing, really. He understands why it makes the Demeter boy cry angry tears.

"When did you find this?" Liam asks gently and hands the note over to Chiron.

"This morning," the boy sniffs and rubs his wrist under his nose. "She’s been weird ever since she came back after the summer break."

"_I’m following the call of the Palikari_," Chiron reads out loud as he strokes his chin with thumb and forefinger. "This might run deeper than we thought."

"Sounds like a cult, if you ask me," the boy chimes in, without being asked. "The whole camp is talking about this, Liam. Are you ever gonna do something about it?"

Liam kind of stares at the boy for a moment. His name is Jonquil and with his thirteen years he’s already as tall as Liam and looks like a terrifying punk with partly shaved off green hair and flowers all over his leather jacket.

"We’re on it," Liam explains and Jonquil’s angry expression turns into a pout. "I know you want her back right now but we don’t even know who these Palikari are."

"My satyr friend said it’s what they called young warriors back then. Someone’s probably building an army." There’s more snot running out of his nose and Liam desperately wants to hand him a paper tissue.

"It’s as we feared," Chiron says and gives the piece of paper back to Liam. "Tess was right about the traitor."

Jonquil’s eyes light up. "Let me go to Tess! We need a prophecy! I will handle it, I promise."

"Jonquil," Chiron sighs. "Not this time."

"Why not?" He whines.

"Because..." Liam takes a deep breath. He can’t finish.

"It might have to do something with the great prophecy… Liam’s prophecy." Caeli says as she watches them from the back of a chair.

Thinking about the prophecy always both excites and frightens Liam. The immortal part of his DNA always fighting the mortal part. He’s the bastard son of the fates, doomed to choose one side. _Wait, choose?_ Where did that thought come from? There’s only one side for him and it’s the side of the gods.

"Ah..." The bit of moss on Jonquil’s shoulders turns from green to brown and most flowers hang their heads. "You will leave?"

"I will deal with this and I’ll find out what exactly is happening."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

*

"You promised? Liam you’re an idiot."

"I know," Liam grumbles and let’s Louis press the heel of his hand into the tight knot near his right shoulder. He groans and complains but the pain is coupled with relief. "I don’t even know where to start, cause we increased border patrols and nothing changed. I can’t follow around every demigod to wait and see if they leave."

"Why do you think they leave?" Louis asks.

"I don’t know. Maybe they’re unhappy."

"Many leave when they’re unhappy but that doesn’t mean they’re joining a rebellion."

Liam turns his head to meet Louis’ piercing gaze. "Do you think that’s what’s happening?"

Louis licks his lips. "I don’t know. What do _you_ think is happening?"

"It could be a rogue demigod who wants to annoy the gods," Caeli provides and takes a momentarily break from picking at the feathers under her wing. 

"I still think it could be them," Liam says with a shake of his head. "Soulmates. I think it’s the start of the prophecy, like Tess hinted at."

Louis hums and stops kneading Liam’s shoulders. Instead he drapes himself over him from behind and presses their cheeks together.

"So what will you do, wonder boy?"

"I don’t know."

"Think," Louis whispers. "If they disappear without crossing the borders, then how do they leave?"

Liam thinks hard, thinks of how they leave at night when the whole world becomes a shadow. He twists in Louis arms and grabs his face. "Hades. A child of Hades."

Louis smiles at him almost sadly. "Smart boy."

Liam pulls him in to smash their lips together. Then he gets up. "I’ll talk to their head counsellor."

"You do that, I’ll wait here."

Liam suddenly stops in his tracks and turns around to take in Louis’ form. How he sits there cross-legged, the most beautiful smile on his face. A little mischievous, with an underlying softness that’s all for Liam.

"You won’t leave, will you?" Liam never thought about it. Never asked if Louis was happy here. With him.

He rolls his eyes. "Why would I?"

"Promise me, Louis. Promise you won’t join them, that you won’t leave me."

Louis crawls like a cat until he’s right in front of him and pulls himself up by Liam’s shirt, almost drags him back down. They meet in a kiss that feels like a promise. The only promise Liam will get. It’s enough.

*

Dante Pitt, head counsellor of the Hades cabin is no help whatsoever. It’s a dead end. They’re all dead ends and Liam wants to tear his hair out. He was born for this, literally born for this and he feels _helpless_. He starts strolling through Camp Half-Blood at night, makes sure no one sneaks out of their cabins. He’s exhausted during the day and exhausted during the night and Caeli isn’t that much better. She stays on his shoulder more often than not and he feels more tension building up in his muscles, so much that he’s developing headaches.

Louis watches with concern but there’s nothing he can do for Liam, except being the perfect pillow to fall asleep on wherever they are. Sometimes Liam wakes up with Louis’ fingers in his hair, but most of the time he startles from his sleep with his pen shaped spear already in his hand.

He’s rewarded for his unhealthy persistence almost a week later when he finally sees one of the soulmates. They’re nothing but a shadow on light feet, tugging at the hand of a sleepy child of Hypnos.

"Stop!" He yells and rams the pointy end of his spear into the ground, hoping to hit something. He’s slow, he knows he is, but he catches onto a piece of fabric, giving Caeli room to attack the enemy.

_Enemy. Soulmate. Godswrecker. We’ve trained for this all our lives_.

A muffled sound reaches Liam and for a moment he feels triumphant, feels like a hero, and he can almost see his father’s pleased smile. What he’s met with instead is the face of a grumpy teenager raising her hand.

"No!" the daughter of Hypnos yells and slaps Liam’s cheek hard enough for him to faint. _Sleeping powder_, is all he thinks before he falls into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in months.

He wakes up in his own bed, with Caeli next to him on his pillow and her head tucked into the soft cotton, feathers brushing his face. Failure. He is a failure, he hasn’t tried hard enough to find the people behind this. He hasn’t put as much energy into this as he should have.

It’s like he’s full of electricity, full of rage that he has been missing lately. It fuels him now as he swings his legs out of bed and puts on his clothes. This will end, one way or another.

The sun hangs so low it drowns everything in a deep orange colour, gives the illusion of a blaze in the sky. It tucks at Liam’s brain, wants to push him back to sleep but he can’t. He needs to talk to Chiron. On his way a hand slips into his like an anchor, bringing him to such an abrupt stop that he stumbles back against a firm chest.

"Not now, Louis."

"Come on, you’re still exhausted." Louis entwines their fingers and Liam wants nothing more than to keep holding his hand. But he can’t. Up until now the prophecy had felt so far away. It was something he eagerly waited for his whole life, but being with Louis… he had almost forgotten about it. And now it’s here and Louis is the one drifting away from him.

"I said not now." He yanks his hand away, rubs his thumb into his palm. "I have obligations, this is serious."

Louis bristles. "And your health isn’t?"

"Just go away."

He knows what it means when Louis presses his lips together, jaw set and eyes cold. Louis doesn’t disapprove often but when he does Liam almost wants to duck his head in submission.

"Is this the part where you try to convince me again that what we have isn’t a good idea? You think holding me at arms length will help you stay focused?"

"You always knew that this is imp--"

"No, fuck you, I’m talking!" The wings on his shoes flutter dangerously for a second, only settling down after he stomps his foot on the ground. "You can’t keep doing this to me, Liam! I’m not here to hold you back, I’m here to be at your side!"

At his side. Not to follow him, like so many demigods have sworn. Not to support him, like Chiron promised and even Mr. D (or maybe what he mumbled was about his empty can of diet coke after all). Louis never wanted to admire Liam on his pedestal, never wanted to tear him down. He wanted to climb up next to him. Liam’s heart hurts from how much in love he is. It was a mistake.

"You can’t. Be at my side. I was born for this and you always knew that!"

"But don’t you see? It’s sick, Liam! Zeus is raising you like a pig for slaughter, his own living weapon and the worst part is that you’re letting him! You think it’s a gift! You think you’re lucky, that it’s an _honour_ that you’ve been chosen to die. And why the hell can’t he do your job? Isn’t he meant to be all knowing and all powerful? And yet there he is hiding behind his own fucking kid.”

The sky above them thunders dangerously. Louis doesn’t spare it a glance and Liam marvels at his lack of respect. Lack of fear.

"You don’t get it." And Liam can see in that moment that Louis is completely oblivious to what the prophecy means to him. "It’s nothing my father decided, it’s what the fates decided. It’s my life. This is a war against the gods, which means it’s a war against _me_. The gods are the only family I will ever have. It’s what I always wanted."

He doesn’t think Louis could’ve looked more hurt if Liam had actually physically hurt him. It’s only visible for a split second, Louis’ so carefully created mask slipping to reveal the young man underneath who is just… who is just in love with a fucking idiot.

"Shit," Liam curses, dragging a hand down his face. He’s so tired. "I’m sorry, I..."

"It’s alright… I get it, Liam. I know I’m just a placeholder until you fulfill your destiny and join your godly family." He smirks like he did on the day they punched each other for the first time. "I knew this wasn’t anything serious between us. Wonder boy has better things to do than dating a nobody."

"Louis," Liam desperately drags their foreheads together, feels Louis stiffen, growling, and then crumbling so willingly, back into his arms. "I’m fucking sorry, okay? I love you."

"Then fucking act like it," Louis whispers between them, punching him lazily against his chest. "I won’t let you break up with me and I won’t let you kill yourself over this. You won’t get a constellation for suicide, it’ll make you look like an incompetent fool."

Liam almost wants to laugh. "Fuck."

"Go take a nap. You can talk to Chiron later."

"How do you know I was looking for him and not someone else?"

"Clearly you were leaving for the big house. Which means either Mr. D or Chiron and why would you ever want to talk to Mr. D?"

"Fair enough. Tess could’ve been an option though."

"Nah," Louis shakes his head against Liam’s. "There’s nothing more to say between you two ever since she told you about the prophecy."

It’s terrifyingly true. And Louis is so fucking _smart_.

"I love you," he repeats and Louis’ arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him in.

"Love you too, wonder boy."

*

Things change in a way Liam has never anticipated. Louis is still Louis but also not Louis. He keeps looking at Liam like he’s waiting for something. He smiles at Liam, bumps their shoulders together, and sometimes slips into bed with him so neither of them has to sleep alone. If Liam is sleeping at all. He was following a lead to New York, the whisper of a dryad who heard the trees sing about a group of demigods stealing from the god Hermes. They came up with nothing and Hermes didn’t seem to find the incident suspicious enough to show up in person. Liam is baffled. Shouldn’t the soulmates frighten everyone? Not just Zeus? Even his father stays silent on the matter whenever Liam prays to him.

He dwells on it until he comes home to one of his eldest sisters gone, leaving nothing but a white feather behind. Caeli chews it up with a screech, stomps on it like an angry Donald Duck. Skye had eyes like a storm but was always so calm, always there to listen to Liam’s worries when he needed to reflect on his thoughts. And now she’s gone and Liam doesn’t know why. 

"We will find them, Liam. Let’s leave tomorrow and just… just look for them." Caeli sounds as frustrated as Liam feels.

"Yeah," he croaks, picking up the stringy rest of the feather. It’s almost like they’re mocking him. Sending feathers to the Zeus kid with the eagle. It’s a bait and for once Liam is eager to take it. He’s not just in it for the gods anymore. He just wants it to be over at this point, it’s all he’s thinking about, trying not to be embarrassed by his lack of progress.

He announces his plan in the dining pavilion, first to Chiron and Mr. D.

"You just came home." Chiron’s disapproving frown makes Liam look away. "You returned from a dead end and now you want to leave without a proper lead?"

"I have to start somewhere. And I won’t be completely clueless. The feather my sister left behind? It was one of her most prized possessions. We might be able to track her with it."

Chiron looks slightly impressed. "If you are sure..."

Liam picks four demigods to go with him. Castor and Pollux, which earns him a dark look from Mr. D, a daughter of Hecate who might be able to cast a tracking spell, and Louis. Of course Louis. He smiles at Liam but it’s one of those new weird smiles that Liam is not used to. It’s why he drags him to the middle of the pavillion later, when soft music fills the air and the candles have burnt low enough to dip everything in a soft orange light. Liam thinks that he is so lucky to hold Louis in his arms and he might have skipped his strict ‘no drinking’ rule to tell Louis exactly that and more.

Most of his words have Louis blush, though the bad lighting makes it hard to see. But it’s definitely Louis’ I’m-embarrassed-stop-talking-grimace. He stops, but only to press their lips together as they keep swaying slowly to the music, ignoring his camp mates doing something very similar around them.

"What?" Liam mutters with half-lidded eyes, so focused on Louis’ everything that he didn’t quite catch his words.

“Just...remember this moment, yeah? Wherever we’re going tomorrow."

Liam slides his arm further around Louis’ waist, curling him closer. “I don’t think I could ever forget.”

Louis sighs and rests his cheek on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m good at slipping people’s minds.”

"Stuck in my mind is more like it."

He expects some witty remark, something that makes Liam laugh and brightens the mood. What he gets instead is a lowly whispered apology against the sensitive skin of his neck.

"What are you sorry for?" Liam doesn’t like the tone of Louis’ voice and it makes him panic for a second-- until he feels Louis pinch his nipple.

"Gah! What the fuck?"

Louis, moment-ruiner, smirks at him. "Just sorry for your horrible taste in men."

*

Liam is dragged out of sleep almost violently. One moment he is asleep, next thing he knows he’s tumbling out of bed and into his shoes, his heart pounding like death is on his heels. It was a voice in his head, urging him to get up but he can’t place it, he only knows it was someone or something important.

That’s when he hears the screaming. It’s like everything was wrapped in soft cotton until this moment, when all the sounds are filtering in, almost overwhelmingly loud. The alcohol from the night is instantly burned from his mind, leaving him sober enough to realise that the voice had been coming from Caeli. She’s waiting for him by the door, determination in her eyes.

"Where’s Louis?" He asks, not used to waking up alone anymore.

But he doesn’t wait for an answer. He hurls storm bringer to life, the weapon in his hand as familiar as using one of his limbs. Outside he’s met with chaos and panic caused by a fire that can’t be fought with a spear. And water, apparently. He recognises children of Poseidon guiding waves of water into the flames but it only urges them on, makes them jump cabins and Liam sucks in a sharp breath.

_Greek fire._ How is that possible?

He finally starts running, the sound of Caeli’s wings trailing behind him. He grabs the head counsellor of the Aphrodite cabin by her arm, trying to calm her down. But she already is calm. The black smudges on her face are not caused by her mascara running down her cheeks. It’s soot and grime from the fire that threatens to swallow everything.

"He’s here, Liam," she says coldly. "He took three of my siblings. And he’s here for more."

"He--"

"I knew it. I think I’ve always known it and I should’ve told you."

"Esma, what are you talking about?"

She points behind Liam and when he turns around he spots a whole bunch of demigods following a hooded figure. It’s not like last time, not a dark shape wrapped in a cloak. He is wearing a crystal white hoodie and blue denim jeans. It’s nothing special, just so ordinary that Liam wants to laugh. He does then, but only at his own stupidity and it almost chokes him because he recognises it all. From his covered head down to his feathered shoes.

Louis has always been a force to be reckoned with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉🙉  
so was that a surprise for you? Or not? We're curious!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooo much for the feedback so far! We're glad some of you came back for this story <3

Louis stops when storm bringer hits the tree right next to him, blocking his way like a stubborn extension of Liam’s arm. He expected the tree to shatter into tiny splinters, like a twisted metaphor of Liam’s heart. Wonder boy looks like his world is ending and Louis is not sure how to feel about that. It won’t last. Liam will get over it. Grief will be replaced by anger and that’s something Louis knows how to deal with. He knows how to handle people that hate him.

The demigods that are between Liam and Louis jump and draw their weapons, children tortured by battle instincts, day and night. When they recognise Liam, the hero that lived with them for so long, they don’t know what to do. Louis doesn’t blame them.

They part like a sea to let Liam through, who has given up his only weapon in order to stop Louis. No, that’s not right. He has another weapon much more dangerous to Louis. It’s Caeli. She’s a fucking eagle, human expressions aren’t something she can do, but the murder in her eyes tells Louis that she’s here to fulfill her promise. Louis absentmindedly rubs the spot where his liver sits. 

But Liam never reaches Louis. He’s stopped halfway by a sword against his throat, a sword that belongs to his long lost sister.

"Skye..."

"Step back, Liam, I mean it."

"It’s alright." Louis says almost softly and Skye meets his eyes for a moment before she nods and lowers her weapon.

Louis pulls down his white hood and dares to look at Liam once more. He can see Liam’s brain work, how everything falls into place for him. The way Louis behaved, the things he said. More than once Louis had caught himself wishing Liam would figure it out sooner. Sometimes he wanted to be stopped, other times he day-dreamed about Liam joining him, about them running away together. But he knows now that it’s not who Liam is, he never will be.

"Did you plan this?" Liam asks even though he already knows the answer. Perhaps the question is more loaded though, dragging a tail of _Did you plan to break my heart? Did you plan to leave me? Did you plan to fuck with my fate?_ behind it.

"Yes." Louis has a hard time holding up the facade of being a strong leader in front of so many demigods. It’s not fair of Liam to ask this question right now. "In a way."

"I see," Liam whispers and his expression hardens. Finally. That’s something Louis can work with.

"You’re dead," Caeli hisses as she lands on Liam’s spear. "How _dare_ you."

"Go." Louis shoots Skye a quick look, ignoring both Liam and Caeli. "Take them home."

Somehow Caeli manages to pull storm bringer out of the tree and suddenly it’s back in Liam’s hands. He wants to follow but Louis can’t let him do this. So he draws his own sword, which quivers when it meets Liam’s spear.

They don’t speak. All words are lost in their heavy breaths, their sweat, the wet fucking sheen in Liam’s eyes when he twists his face and tries to pierce Louis’ heart. He hits the tree once more and Louis puts his foot against Liam’s chest to push him away. His hands slip from the spear’s handle and he tumbles back into the mud, eyes shocked and wide. Caeli lands next to him, always worried like a mother hen.

"What?" Louis asks with a smile. "Thought I didn’t know how to fight? You saw me in the arena."

"You fight dirty."

Louis hums and his eyes don’t leave Liam when he pulls at the spear and forces it back into its harmless pen-shaped form. He tosses it into the dirt next to him.

"Remember this, Liam."

"Oh, I won’t forget," he spits.

"No, Liam. Remember _all of it_," Louis says and turns away to reach into the shadows with one hand, waiting for his trusted child of Hades to pull him in. He smiles when he feels her fingers wrap around his and leaves behind everything. His ‘home’, his life and his stupid fucking heart.

*

There is a warehouse that sells shoes in the heart of New York, dangerously close to the Empire State Building. It’s not empty because that would be a very obvious and shitty headquarters. Louis believes it’s best to hide in plain sight, close to the enemy. If you want to sneak into a party you don’t dress up like a ninja and sneak in through the window. No, you dress like a guest and walk in like you’re supposed to be there. So far it worked pretty well for them.

"Headcount," Louis says with a yawn and drops his head on his crossed arms. "I want to know how many we’ve got."

"Twenty, I’d say." Skye looks down at her sheet of paper. "While you were gone, Marina Marsh from the Poseidon cabin joined us. She says all she can do is talk fish."

"That’s cute," Louis mumbles. "Is she cared for?"

Skye nods. "Pearl is looking after her sister. They’re working on a way to gain every sea creatures loyalty. Can you imagine an army of squids attacking the gods?"

Louis laughs and shifts his head on his arms to grin at her. "I’d die to see that."

"Don’t die yet," another demigod says as he slips through the doors of their conference room. Their conference room really is just a room with an old pathetic camping table in its centre and squeaky chairs around it.

"Don’t tell me what to do, Namjoon."

Louis knew what he did when he recruited his inner circle. One might think they’d clash, since they’re all leaders in a way. Skye was Liam’s second in command and in charge of her cabin whenever Liam was absent. Namjoon was the head counsellor of the Athena cabin and one of the smartest people on earth. Louis never worried though. Leaders know how to work together for a mutual purpose.

"I don’t tell you what to do. It was a request."

"You didn’t say _please_."

Namjoon sighs, "please?" and drops the keys on the table. 

Louis picks it up and slips it back into his pocket. The Warehouse has five floors with the third one reserved for them. You can only reach it with a certain key though. No mist. No lies. Just plain human mechanics and a deal with the boss of the warehouse. Who happens to be a grown-up daughter of Aphrodite who left Camp Half-Blood on her own when everyone teased her for being not pretty enough. Her cabin is almost empty now, only a few siblings left because either Aphrodite is dead or she became a nun. Louis has a hard time believing either.

"Alright, since I like you so much. Why are you late?"

"I was on a mission for you."

"A mission?" He frowns. "You don’t go on missions. You hate missions. You’re our brain."

"The things I do for you, hyung." Namjoon smirks and finally slumps down in his seat. "I was just scouting a museum, nothing too exciting. Remember how we talked about the sword of Peleus? I found it."

"You went out of your way to see it yourself?"

"I wanted to make sure. It’s covered in mist so it just looks like broken remnants some archaeologist dug up. I think it’s an easy one. Your call though."

"Hm. I’ll think about it." Louis reaches down to touch his own sword. "I’ve come quite far with mine."

"It’s said to guarantee victory in every battle," Skye chimes in. "Maybe we shouldn’t pass on this chance."

"It’s a power given by the gods," Louis reminds them as he leans back in his chair, much more awake now. "They grant you something but what is the price? I’d rather trust my own skill with my own sword than some divine magic."

Namjoon nods and looks kind of proud. "I just wanted to remind you that we always have the option."

"Thanks," Louis says."What else?"

At this Skye begins to grin. "We found the den of Orthrus in the underworld."

Louis beams. "Now that’s what I’m talking about."

*

There’s a reason why he trusts Skye. Skye was the first to join him. In fact, they were both still at camp half-blood when the seed of what they are now was planted. Louis was a son of Hermes, with no gifts other than the skills he had worked for so hard. Skye was a daughter of Zeus who was scared of thunder and storms. They didn’t fit in. And when they noticed that they were not alone they started to wonder. They started to resent the gods.

_Someone should do something_, Skye had said.

_I will_, Louis had answered. He wasn’t serious about it until he saw a son of Poseidon drown. Because even when you’re special you’ll die if you’re not special _enough_. The gods won’t care.

So he doted on the misfits, the child of Hades who was afraid of the dark, the asexual daughter of Aphrodite, the son of Nike who could only lose and the child of Nemesis who burst with love. He did all of that under Chiron’s and Mr. D’s noses who only cared about children like Liam, who was born to achieve great things. Is it any wonder that Louis hated him so much?

He didn’t expect to fall in love. And he certainly didn’t expect to be loved back. What a huge fucking miracle.

Luckily he has Namjoon Kim, son of Athena with an IQ so high it blows up any scale. There’s only one slight problem: Namjoon is not interested in anything that involves logic or battle strategies. He always preferred hanging out with the Apollo kids. Writing poetry. Playing music. 

But Louis is forever grateful whenever Namjoon is so fed up with them being stupid that he pulls an entire battle plan out of his hat. His hat which is a beanie that covers his hair most of the time. Maybe he even sleeps in it, Louis is not sure.

("If you hate all of this, why are you helping me?" Louis asked him once.

It took Namjoon a while to answer. "It’s the first time a cause seems important enough to dedicate myself to it. And what could be more of a ‘fuck you’ than using my divine gifts against the gods?"

"As a son of Hermes I appreciate it. A lot."

"You better. I left behind six boyfriends to join you."

Louis blinked. "Excuse me, did you just say six boyfriends?"

"Yeah?"

A pause.

"You have more boyfriends than people who will ever miss me."

Namjoon’s laugh was easy and bright when he put an arm around Louis’ shoulders. Even though Namjoon was three years younger than him, he was fucking _tall_ compared to Louis. Unfair.

"Now that’s not true, hyung. Everyone here would miss you.")

*

"Don’t be scared," Louis tells Jerome, son of Hephaestus, who acted so brave before and now quivers when faced with the darkness of the underworld. Louis has sneaked in often enough that he’s familiar with the thickness of the air and the heavy feeling in his bones that makes him want to lie down and die.

"I’m not scared," Jerome tells him and re-fastens the strap of his metal leg for the tenth time. "I’m just bored. What are we waiting for?"

"There’s two guards. We’re waiting for one of them to leave their post so there will be the least amount of casualties."

"The guards are zombies," Dalton reminds them from Louis’ other side. "Why do we care?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Come on, you’re smarter than that. One corpse is daily business, two corpses are suspicious. Plus, I hate leaving trails behind."

"Whatever, how do you know that one of them will move?"

"Once a day one of them will scout the surrounding area, which takes a few hours. I checked their schedule." Louis takes another look at his monsterproof phone. "Shouldn’t take long now."

"How the fuck do you have time for that?" Dalton asks.

"Now you know why I’m always tired."

"Oh," Jerome breathes. "One of them… limps away."

"Slowly."

"Very slowly."

"Are you sure he’s moving?"

"Shut up," Louis hisses at the two of them. "Dalton, get your arrow ready. I want a clean shot through the guard’s head."

"Aye, sir." He reaches into his quiver.

When the first guard is out of sight the arrow flies past them and… hits the zombie’s shield.

"Oopsie," Dalton says, slightly embarrassed. "I really am the worst child of Apollo."

Louis sighs. "You’re fine, try again before he calls for backup."

"He’s so slow," Jerome repeats while the zombie looks around, very confused.

"Come on, Dalton, you can do this."

This time he hits his target. The zombie goes down with an arrow in his nose and Louis proudly slaps his shoulder. "Knew it. Now let’s move."

It doesn’t take Louis long to pick the lock of the dungeon or whatever that massive bronze door leads to. He expects a growling two-headed monster chewing on leftover bones or a hidden maze they have to conquer to get to the beast on the throne. That’s why he brought Jerome and his compass. Turns out he’ll need his other skills more.

"Are those… chains?" Dalton asks.

Orthrus, the two-headed beast of the underworld, brother of Cerberus, lies there in chains.They cut into his feet and rustle pitifully when Orthrus whines and shys away from the light. 

"This is not what I expected," Jerome says. "That’s--"

"Cruel," Louis finishes.

Dalton shifts next to him. "Maybe it’s his punishment for failing to protect the cattle when Hercules killed him."

"Because death isn’t enough of a punishment?" Louis frowns. "I always thought Hades was one of the better gods. Maybe he isn’t."

"Do we still free him?" Jerome asks.

"Of course. Now more than ever."

Orthrus growls lowly when Louis steps closer and then kneels. They stare into each other’s eyes and Louis waves his companions over to do the same. Louis waits until Orthrus makes eye contact with him before he speaks again. 

"Sorry this happened to you. We wanted to cut you lose so you could stir up a bit of chaos but now I really just want to set you free. Are you alright with that?"

Orthrus eyes them suspiciously and curls in on himself in a defensive manner. It breaks Louis’ heart.

"I won’t hurt you," Jerome says bravely and shuffles closer. "I cut off my own leg once to escape from a cyclops. Now wherever I go I take my tools with me so I can free myself without losing a limb. Will you let me help you?"

When Orthrus’ tail gives a slight wag, Louis considers it a win.

*

"We freed Orthrus and stole Triton’s conch shell. So far so good."

"But what does it do?" Skye asks.

"It can raise or calm the waves," Namjoon answers.

"Did you look that up on Wikipedia?" She squints at him.

Namjoon scoffs at her. "Being smart doesn’t mean you know everything, it means you know where to look for the information you need."

"So you looked it up on Wikipedia," Louis states.

"... Yes."

*

“I’m sorry,” Louis blinks slowly. “Did you just say your name is Robin Banks?”

“Yup.” Robin drawls around the chewing gum in his mouth, popping the p.

“Unbelievable. Who’s your parent?”

“Unclaimed.” Robin shrugs and reaches to catch the hood of his hoodie before it falls, tugs it back over his head.

Louis shares a look between Namjoon and Skye.

“Twenty drachmas on Hermes being the father,” she blurts out.

“Fifty drachmas on Apollo being the father.” Namjoon says incredulously, like Skye’s lost her mind. “Robin? As in Robin Hood? The most famous Robin and archer in English folklore?”

“Robin Hood was a real person.” Robin informs them flatly.

Louis shares another look between Namjoon and Skye.

“Thirty drachmas on Robin Hood being a real person.”

“Sixty drachmas on Robin Hood being a myth.”

“Welcome aboard, Robin.” Louis sighs like a harried mother of twenty.

*

The ‘common room’ is where Louis holds his inspirational speeches ("Good job, kids, now go the fuck to sleep." or "No one died today, so let’s have some pizza.") or just informs them of what they’re about to do next. The atmosphere has been a little grim and hopeless lately, now that they are revealed as the Palikari.

They have attention, something Louis actually wanted to avoid. Will they operate in the open or keep sneaking around in the shadows? Shadows that are now watched by other Hades kids. Khalida always does her best to guide Louis, but lately there have been hands on him that were unfamiliar, that had tried to pull him in different directions.

He decides that he has to be more careful, has to trust his own two feet again. This started with just him and he’s not too proud to go back to his old ways.

“We can’t win without more soldiers.” Ivy, daughter of Demeter implores from her spot on an old shabby couch.

“We’re not soldiers.” Louis scoffs immediately, but no one listens. He shouldn’t have let Namjoon and Skye pick their name. Palikari means warrior but that is so dangerously close to everything Louis hates.

“And we can’t win.” Marina shrugs. “So what is there to lose?”

“If you think we can’t win then why the fuck are you even here?” Ivy demands angrily. She looks like she‘s either about to throttle Marina or just looking for the excuse to do it.

“It’s not about winning.” Marina insists. “This isn’t some game, it’s our lives, the lives of _every_ demigod. This is about change. We’re doing this for future demigods and maybe _other_ gods out there will take notice and change too. Right, Louis?”

(Louis is too embarrassed to say that he just wants to piss off the gods and see how long he can get away with it.)

*

"Esma is back," Skye informs him. "Her and the Hecate kid stole the moly herb from Demeter’s garden. It will protect you from any kind of magic."

"Good. That might come in handy." Louis crosses out another word on his list before he hands it to Skye.

"Hephaestus’ hammer?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. I will do that on my own though. If shit goes south it should be me after all."

"Okay, but… why Hephaestus’ hammer?"

"What else do you think we should do? Awaken Kronos?" When Skye just looks at him, Louis scoffs. "No."

She sighs and rubs at her acne covered cheek. "I just don’t get it. We’re always going for the small things. Triton’s conch shell instead of Poseidon’s trident. Zeus’ drinking cup instead of his lightning bolt."

"Actually..." Namjoon suddenly pokes his head out from under the table where he has been writing into his notebook. He’s not wearing his beanie today, revealing silver hair with dark roots. "I’ve been wondering about that too."

Louis sighs. "It’s the little things that hurt the most. Zeus’ lightning bolt, seriously? That is so obvious. Steal their weapons and they will come for you. Steal their tools and they won’t notice until it’s too late."

Namjoon’s eyebrows rise in realisation and he quickly pulls himself up to take his seat at the table. "When we have his hammer… we could sabotage the gods’ chariots and they won’t be able to fix them. They won’t be able to fix _anything_."

Skye stays silent for a moment, Louis’ plan settling into her brain. "Oh, wow."

"You know, hyung," Namjoon says, "for a child of Hermes you’re actually really fucking smart."

Now that’s just embarrassing and Louis waves his hand around. "Oh, shut up you two. I’m still a puny demigod like everyone else."

"Which is why I don’t think you should go steal the hammer," Skye says. She knows she’s stronger than Louis, who won’t argue with that. "Let me do it. What if you run into Liam?"

Louis tenses up and Namjoon averts his eyes. Skye is the only one brave enough to mention Liam fucking Payne in his presence. 

"I’m not worried about Wonder Boy. If anything, I have to fear the featherball following him everywhere," he says through gritted teeth.

"Sagitta," Namjoon mutters.

"What?" 

"Sagitta is the hidden arrow in the stars that only reveals itself at night. Hercules used it to shoot Aquila who was feasting on Prometheus’ liver. You… you could kill the eagle with that."

A promise of having his own liver eaten nags at Louis. The image of a dead Caeli and a weeping Liam tortures his brain. He shakes his head.

"No."

They don’t ask why.

*

Pheme, goddess of fame and scandalous rumours, beautiful in a way Aphrodite would surely love to be, pats at the sheets of Louis’ bed with her silk-wrapped body on display. She smiles and waits for him to leave his spot by the door, where he stands with one arm braced against the frame, thumbing at his curly fringe.

"Come on, Louis. You know the price for my help." She keeps one hand on the bed between her legs, the other raised in front of her, beckoning him over with one crooked finger.

Louis sighs. She’s so beautiful and there’s dirt under his fingernails, there’s no way he can touch her like this.

"I’m not in the mood?" He tries.

"Louis..."

He gives in with another sigh and joins her on the bed, crawls into her arms to rest his head on her chest. It’s familiar enough for him to relax and let her scent engulf him. She smells like victory, like the laurels that are placed on a demigod’s head after a successful quest. Not that Louis ever had the honour to experience it.

"There you go," She whispers and combs her fingers through his hair while his hand traces her spine.

"Can I just say that your demands are oddly refreshing?"

She chuckles. "Cuddles are the best currency. The other gods just don’t know because they strife to be like Zeus, who is more into..."

"Rape?"

"Sad but true."

"So, any gossip on Mount Olympus?"

"Yesterday Ares slapped Hephaestus to the other end of the world."

"Neat. Why?"

"Hephaestus put an invisible whoopee cushion on Ares’ throne. But no one believed Ares so now all the other gods think he has… digestive problems."

Louis frowns. "That doesn’t sound like Hephaestus."

"No, it was actually your father but neither of them know."

She can probably feel the way Louis tenses against her. Her hand stills for a moment.

"Okay, let’s not talk about my father."

"As you wish," Pheme mumbles and rest her cheek against his head. "We could sleep instead."

"Sounds nice, but..."

The goddess whines. "Alright, tell me. Why did you want to see me?"

Louis lifts his head from her chest to show off his cheshire grin. "I need you to spread a rumour for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... can you believe this part was born from a conversation soft and I had that went like "haha what if Louis would pull something like Luke?"
> 
> Question is though, will Louis' story end like Luke's? hmmmm


	5. Chapter 5

His current existence feels nothing more than a numb throb, dull to all around him in the stark, painful absence of what he’s lost. What’s been taken from him.

Liam doesn’t know when he started dividing his life into before-Louis and after-Louis. It’s like he gained a whole new perspective on the world and himself in those precious few months spent together (and gods was that really all it was? Liam feels like he’s known Louis a lifetime, multiple lifetimes).

It’s like Louis flipped a switch in his soul and his dreary black and white world turned to technicolour for the first time. But Louis took all the colour and light with him when he abandoned camp. Now Liam’s world is a dull grey.

Who will comfort him in a time like this?

"It wasn’t them. It wasn’t the prophecy," Liam states, eyes glued to his feet. "It was all him."

Chiron’s hand on his shoulder weighs more than a lifetime and keeps him upright when he feels like falling.

"I’m sorry, my boy."

His wish for Chiron to come up with better words, an explanation that would make him feel less broken, stays unfulfilled. Even though Louis was a menace, no one saw it coming, no one took him serious. No one ever suspected the son of Hermes, who resented the gods. Stupid. They all have been stupid, and the only reason they stay silent about it is because they’re embarrassed. If only ‘embarrassed’ was all he could feel.

He is hollow and empty and tries to fill that emptiness with training sessions in the arena, until he’s exhausted and falls asleep. When he gets up, he returns to the arena but less and less demigods are ready to volunteer as his sparring partner. Until he’s alone again. Was Louis the only one who could suffer his presence?

"What?" Tess looks up from her copy of ‘Tintenherz’. "What did you say?"

"A prophecy," Liam repeats. "Do you have one?"

She frowns, squeezing her finger between the pages when she closes the book. "I don’t."

"When you have one, tell me first."

"Liam--"

"Thank you, Tess."

*

He returns every day, asking for a quest. Tess sends him away, every day.

*

“Liam,” Caeli says insistently, briefly raking a wickedly curved talon over his wrist to get his attention. “This is killing you. I can see it and I’m not just going to roost and watch any longer.”

Liam shakes his head, not looking up from the dusty scroll Chiron gave him. He’s been staring at the same words for an hour. “Nothing else to do. Just another lesson to learn. I’ll survive, Caeli. I always do.”

Caeli hesitates, feathers ruffling in helpless distress. “There _is_ a way to deal with this. To forget and make the pain go away. The River Lethe--“

They both know he’d never take the easy way out that she’s suggesting. Liam would never wade into the River Lethe and cleanse himself of the memory and pain and love. Of Louis.

Lessons learnt to make him stronger. Liam, alone in his bunk and surrounded by empty bottles of nectar, the physical proof of his grief, felt anything but strong.

Ignorance was safer. Not bliss, but definitely safer. For his own sake.

“No.” Liam snaps, and the window panes faintly rattle with the force of it. He shuts the heavy book in his lap with just as much force. “I could _never_. Gods, I--“ Liam clamps his jaw shut tight and quietly, against the sudden sting in his eyes, says. “I don’t want to forget, Caeli. I don’t, and that’s the problem. It’s worth the pain. _He_ is worth the pain.”

*

"Tess?"

"No prophecy. I’m sorry, Liam."

They are all sorry, but that doesn’t help him at all.

*

A dryad breezes past him and a goblet full to the brim with sparkling golden liquid is pressed into his hand. Liam brings it up to his nose and inhales the rich scent of it deeply. He doesn't know what it is exactly but it's definitely alcoholic and definitely forbidden in camp, even for him.

As if on cue, up at the big table Mr. D's head snaps up so quickly his dark curls bounce with the sudden sharp movement of it. He picks Liam out of the crowd like a magnet, gaze locking on the goblet in Liam’s hand and then up to Liam’s face.

Liam stares the forced teetotal god of wine dead in the eye and knocks the drink back in one go.

In all of Liam’s life it's the first time he can honestly say that Dionysus has ever resembled their father, if the sudden murderous thunder in his bloodshot eyes is anything to go by.

Liam doesn't give a _fuck_. His brother’s nonexistent approval is suddenly wholeheartedly the last thing in the entire world that Liam wants to break his back for in desperate need of. The clarity of the realisation is startling. It's beyond him, now. He's lost so much, a part of himself included, that any hope of any acceptance or approval he'd ever searched for in the god has shrivelled up and died along with his heart.

He stumbles out of the packed pavilion and the crowds part around him like a thrumming sea of bodies. No one squeezes his shoulder or gives him a friendly pat on the back as he goes. After years of it, a whole lifetime, the stark absence of those unwanted touches is somehow even worse than the unwanted touches themselves.

It’s dark outside and easier to breathe out here away from the loud crowds. Liam was born when a hurricane hit, he’s a literal storm and yet the stillness and quiet comforts him so much more. But he’s not completely alone.

“Can’t handle your liquor, huh?”

The light of the stars above doesn’t reach the boy with the smooth voice and Liam lets out a bitter laugh.

“Easier than trying to handle life.”

“I’ll drink to that,” the voice from the shadows says, raising an identical goblet to the one Liam had and taking a sip. Liam can _hear_ the grimace. “On second thought, maybe not. This shit is rank.”

Liam concurs by heaving up the rest of his guts in the bushes next to him and then there’s a firm hand rubbing at his back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Liam coughs miserably and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. On any other day, any other fucking day of his life Liam would never afford anyone to see him like this, showing such blatant weakness. But that was life before-Louis. He cranes his head and blearily looks up at his merciful martyr.

“Thanks”

“No problem.” The guy smiles, and his dark eyes catch the gleam of the moon in the sky along with the sharp whites of his teeth. “I’m Zayn. Let's get you back to cabin one, I have a feeling you’ve had one long arse day.”

*

Zayn has been invisible to Liam until that night. Odd for a child of Apollo, who usually basks in attention like a cat in the sun. But Zayn manages to blend in and disappear in a way Liam finds himself jealous of. He never avoided his fame, quite the opposite, but even he has moments when he wants to hide away from the fates, just for a little while.

He feels drawn to that, when he watches Zayn propped up against a tree, the sun hitting his face with a pair of sunglasses on his nose. He has siblings around him, and they talk and bicker and Zayn listens with the tiniest hint of a smile.

Only his head suddenly lolls to the side and his whole body flinches, sunglasses almost sliding off.

He was _asleep_. Liam is kind of in awe, can’t stop staring for about five seconds and then suddenly bursts into a laugh. Oh, he forgot how good that feels.

"Are you alright, Liam?"

Caeli seems almost scared of his outburst, can’t quite believe that he just did that. And Liam can’t stop grinning as he offers his arm to her. She tentatively reaches out with her claw and then hops onto his arm. She’s way past the age for him to casually hold her but Liam will be damned if he stops trying.

"I’m alright," Liam says and almost means it.

*

"So this is your room," Zayn hums and touches everything without even asking. Liam’s first practising sword that is now too small for him. A chest piece of his old armour with a hole where his heart sits. He only survived because of Achilles’ curse. Now that it’s gone he will never be that lucky again. "I wish I had my own room in our cabin. Everything’s always so loud."

"It has its perks," Liam mutters and reaches out to stop Zayn’s hand from touching the old and battered shield. "Careful, it still has poison on it."

"Poison," Zayn repeats with horror in his voice. "Why would you keep it?"

"It’s a memory. It’s all proof of what I survived and where I want to go."

"Ah," Zayn breathes in understanding and when their eyes meet Liam realises that he’s still touching the other boy’s hand.

He quickly pulls back with a familiar burning sensation in his face. Blushing. Is he blushing? He feels like a dainty virgin on their first date, which is impossible. Not after all the things he and Louis have done with each other.

Zayn’s thumb rubs against the skin of his own fingers where Liam has touched him and then he lifts them to his mouth, brushes his lips against the skin. When he notices what he’s doing, he stops and steps back.

"Sometimes I forget that you’re Zeus’ favourite son. That you’ll be a god eventually."

Liam swallows at the familiarity of this topic in his discussions with Louis.

"Does it bother you?"

"Bother me?"

"Would it… would you…" His mind starts to wander and he quickly stops himself _right there_. He has learnt his lesson.

"Liam?"

"Nevermind." Liam shakes his head and turns to a shelf with the dozens of scrolls that Chiron has given him to read over the course of the years. Liam’s mortal brain barely remembers any of it. Will that change after he becomes immortal?

"Ohhh." Zayn suddenly sounds excited and when Liam looks over his shoulder he almost wheezes. How did he find _those_? "Why didn’t you tell me, Liam?"

Notebooks and tomes filled with songs, paintings covered in layers of dust. Safely hidden away behind his glorious achievements that no one ever looks past. Except for Zayn. He smiles so fondly as he traces the easel behind the dresser.

"It’s nothing," Liam dismisses, like he did when Chiron mournfully delivered Zeus’ wish for him to stop with the art and continue his training instead. "I don’t need it."

"If you don’t need it, why are you hiding it instead of getting rid of it?" Zayn asks and it feels like a strange metaphor for Liam’s life, a question he doesn’t know how to answer. Zayn’s gaze softens. "I see."

When he finds the golden Lyre wedged between the dresser and a broken crossbow he gently blows the dust from its strings and hands it to Liam.

"What…" he trails off, his hands already touching the familiar instrument.

"Play something for me," Zayn demands and for some reason Liam doesn’t say no.

*

"Did others leave?" Liam finally dares to ask Chiron, who sighs as if the weight of the world pushes the air out of his lungs. 

"Two. I talk to the children and offer them to come to me if they feel wronged. But they never do, they talk to Louis Tomlinson instead."

"Perhaps you haven’t listened properly," Mr. D tells him and Chiron frowns at him like a scolding wife. They will never change.

"I’ve done this for centuries, and never--"

"There was no Lewis Tomson before," the god shrugs. "No Leemo."

Chiron takes a deep breath. "Zeus is not happy with it. He is not happy with me."

Liam suppresses the childish wish to reach out to his mentor and hug him. "What will he do?"

"I don’t know," Chiron answers and taps his fingers on the armrest of his wheelchair. It’s always strange to see him switch between wheelchair and horse legs. As soon as he got used to one of them, Chiron switches back to the other. "All I know is that Louis must be stopped."

"I will--" Liam starts but Chiron ends that sentence with a look.

"No, my boy."

"Chiron, I’m not--"

"Yes, you are," Mr. D snorts out a laugh. "Don’t pretend you’re over him."

Liam’s face heats up from embarrassment and defiance. "Tess just has to give me a fucking prophecy and I’ll do it."

"Language." 

He forgot how much Chiron doesn’t like it when he curses. Perhaps that’s why he never approved of Louis.

"A prophecy, a mission, give me _something_."

When none of them says anything, Liam leaves. Stomping and raging, like a five year old. Louis would be proud.

*

"Are you ready?" Zayn asks.

"I was born ready," Liam answers and really _really_ means it.

"Okay, start with the lightest colours and work your way through to the darkest colours."

"I will fuck this up," Liam mutters as he dips his brush in the paint.

"You can’t. Anything you paint comes from you and is exactly the way it should be."

"You sound like Bob Ross."

"How do you know who Bob Ross is? You’ve never even seen a glimpse of the internet."

Liam stops with his brush hovering in the air to blink at Zayn who is standing behind him. "What do you mean? He’s all over GodTube. Famous brother of yours."

Zayn stares at him. "GodTube..."

"Dionysus sometimes lets me watch it."

"Huh..."

"It’s not that great anyway. Hypno’s ASMR videos freak me out."

"Okay, focus."

"Right."

He’s waiting for his father to strike him dead for indulging in old habits but nothing happens. Chiron’s worried looks are all he ever gets these days.

*

He’s kind of waiting for Caeli to lecture Zayn the way she did with Louis, but none of that happens. In the beginning she pretends like Zayn doesn’t exist, that he’s just someone hanging out with Liam. And maybe that’s what Liam tries to tell himself too.

"Do you think it’s a good idea?" He asks her one day.

She was busy plucking feathers out from under her wings and stops to gaze at him. Liam is scared of her verdict. She’s the one soul he trusts the most after all.

"There are no good or bad ideas, Liam. It’s the circumstances that are out of your hand, they decide the outcome of your idea."

Liam frowns and leans back.

"You’ve been hanging out with Chiron too much. You talk in riddles like him."

"Well, you were busy with your boy."

"Caeli," He whines and throws himself to her claws. "I’m desperate."

"In desperate need of a new wardrobe. That orange shirt has a hole right under your arm. I wouldn’t date you like this."

The humour in her voice actually calms him down. 

(And if the sight of her sleeping in the hood of Zayn’s sweater makes him melt, no one has to know.)

* 

Healing is a process. It’s not done in a heartbeat, yet every heartbeat brings him closer to it. To being healed. He’s not done healing, not even halfway through it, but since Zayn stumbled into his life he feels like he’s starting to. Sometimes it’s a brush stroke that feels like a balm on the bleeding cuts Louis left behind. Sometimes it’s one of Zayn’s smiles directed at him, without any baggage or expectation.

It’s one of those smiles that hits him hard one day, after weeks and weeks of dating and pointless quests that lead Liam nowhere and leave him empty instead. It was a stupid joke Liam said, but Zayn laughs with his nose scrunched up and the sun giving his hair a red glow. 

"You’re beautiful," he blurts out and winces when Zayn’s laugh stops, the corners of his mouth slowly falling. He eyes Liam almost suspiciously.

"Everybody wants me because I’m beautiful," he says without warmth.

Liam just shrugs. "Everybody wants me because I’m the chosen one."

"I didn’t choose you," Zayn tsks and then falls silent.

Liam holds his gaze from where he’s sitting next to him, cross-legged and plucking at the grass in front of him nervously. Why is he nervous? Zayn is spread out on the ground next to him and slowly lifts himself up onto his elbows without breaking eye-contact. He stares at Liam. He doesn’t even blink. But Liam blinks when he understands. Zayn did the first step. Liam has to meet him in the middle. So he shifts to his knees and leans over Zayn, trapping him between his hands. He can feel Zayn’s breath when he parts his lips and then they meet tentatively.

Liam didn’t expect for his heart to beat so rapidly once more. Like it’s back from the dead, rising from its grave to find its purpose again. And then it’s Zayn’s sigh against his mouth, Zayn’s hand in his hair and gravity pulling them down. He lies half on top of Zayn with one hand on the boy’s cheek and the other curled in the grass next to him.

It’s softer than his first kiss with Louis. It’s all so different and he hates that he’s comparing everything to Louis. He wishes he could stop thinking about him, but Zayn once told him that it’s alright. That he never forgot his first kiss either.

But the thing is, Louis wasn’t his first kiss. The boy haunts him when he’s asleep and when he’s awake and deep down he hopes he’s the reason for Louis’ nightmares, too.

"Well, that was fucking soft," Zayn teases with a small smile.

Their foreheads bump when Liam gives a breathy chuckle and he stays there, reveling in this feeling.

"Soft isn’t so bad, is it?"

"No, ‘s not. It’s kind of new..." Zayn trails off for a second, his fingers digging into the back of Liam’s neck. "But I really fucking like it. Fuck."

"What?" Liam frowns when Zayn turns his head to the side and squeezes his eyes shut. Did he fuck up?

"Nothing. I just wasn’t prepared for this. Didn’t expect to fall for you."

Liam’s heart almost falls out of his chest. It’s close to bursting, way too ready to pour over the world and drown it.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asks desperately and grins at Zayn’s satisfied hum.

"Only if you promise to never stop."

It feels like an easy promise.

*

Zayn is tightly hugging Niall goodbye on the golden porch of the Apollo cabin when Liam jogs over from the path down from the big house, late thanks to some young new campmates asking him to sign his Mythomagic card.

“Sorry, sorry.” He pants, resting a hand on the small of Zayn’s back once he’s finally let go of Niall. “Traffic was awful.”

Castor and Pollux grace him with twin grins and as much as Liam truly likes them both and counts them both as friends it’s always so surreal (and a little unnerving) to see Mr. D so clearly in their facial features and smiling, friendly and happy and completely approachable. And the twins know it.

“Hey,” Liam says quietly, squeezing Niall’s shoulder when a passing by child of Nike offers some advice to Castor and Pollux. “Good luck on your quest. You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Liam.” Niall smiles, quietly grateful and genuine, all his crooked teeth he hates so much on show. It makes Liam’s heart ache in his chest and not for the first time he mourns their forgotten friendship.

It’s not that they fell out, they just drifted apart and grew; Niall into himself and Liam into the hero he was expected to be.

_As soon as Niall gets back from his quest I’m going make up for our lost time_, Liam promises himself as he and Zayn wave the trio off, climbing up the path to meet Argus, his arm wrapped around Zayn’s shoulders. _Especially since I’m dating his brother_.

When the van finally disappears into the horizon he and Zayn weave their way through the forest back to camp, hand in hand.

Liam imagines the three of them laughing together by the lake one sunny summers afternoon and for some reason he can’t help but picture them all trading Mythomagic cards. He snorts and Zayn slants him a questioning look, a curious smile on his face as he squeezes Liam’s hand hanging over his shoulder.

“What’s tickled you?”

“Nothing.” Liam grins, squeezing back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last pre-written chapter, I'M SWEATING
> 
> \- Squishy, 2019
> 
> (So what do you think happened to Niall? HMMMM?)


	6. Chapter 6

Things are almost back to normal. Almost. The only problem is, Niall never returns.

Castor and Pollux wearily trudge up the winding path to the big house while Liam’s on the porch discussing the shifting of mercury into retrograde with Tess (aka watching dog videos on the porch with Tess).

At their approach Liam’s on his feet immediately. “You’re back! What happened?” He frowns and leans to the side to look behind them. “Where’s Niall?”

The twins share a grim glance, lost for words but before anyone can say anything else Mr. D appears at the door of the big house, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes with a tired groan. “If this is your idea of a joke, Leon, I wouldn’t quit your prophecy job to become a comedian. I could have sworn I heard--”

Mr. D takes one look at his sons standing ragged and bruised and bleeding before him and rushes forward to meet them. Tess hauls Liam bodily out of the way before he’s mowed down and they watch the three of them embrace, if briefly.

*

Missing, is Niall’s official title. Killed, is what’s grimly murmured around campfires throughout camp and the way half the Apollo cabin are mourning you’d have to believe it. The other half are angry, indignant, demanding of answers and desperate and determined for a quest to find their forgotten brother.

Traitor, is the rumour whispered behind hands and backs. Following in the steps of the son of Hermes.

*

Zayn spends exactly three days curled up in Niall’s abandoned bed, two days avoiding everyone like a shadow, one day trashing his locked studio, and every day and night afterwards clinging to Liam in his bunk in cabin one. After that he doesn’t step foot in the Apollo cabin ever again.

That’s how Zayn deals with stuff, Liam knows. He’d prefer to suffer silently on some kind of unknown principle, internalise it all and implode on himself when it finally gets too much to bear before he calls it quits and actually uses his words.

He’s just like Louis in a way, who in all the months Liam really knew him, never knew how to truly express himself, hid behind barbed words and a sharp tongue. Deflecting with damage of his own. Or maybe he did express himself but just couldn’t with Liam around. Louis suffers loudly and deeply when it finally gets to his breaking point and Liam will always wish he could've been there for him.

Liam’s patient though. He can wait. He’d wait an eternity for Zayn.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Liam asks him as gently as he can on one rainy evening.

“Talk about what?” Zayn mutters into the blank page of his sketchbook in his lap, knowing absolutely full well _what_ and that’s the end of that attempted conversation. Niall and his disappearance becomes a forbidden topic.

*

He’s fine. No, he _was_ fine and now he’s not. Everything comes rushing back to him when he’s confronted with blue eyes, a messy fringe and a cheshire cat grin.

“You probably heard about it already but we raided the metropolitan museum last week for some bullshit artefact that’s meant to grant you eternal awesomeness. It doesn’t, by the way. They should’ve called it the bullshit artefact of bullshitness. Anyway, I’m on my way to actually steal the bloody thing when I waltz right past a marble statue that I would’ve sworn was your righteous mug.”

Silence. No reaction except a controlled exhale. Liam fears he might wreck havoc on the whole continent if he allows himself to say what he wants to say. But perhaps there’s no words for it, just righteous thunder. Louis’ pout doesn’t help. Liam knows how much he hates being ignored.

“Do you reckon it was?” Louis asks, insistently needling. “Some before-her-time oracle from back in the day getting a cheeky glimpse of you in all your glory? I’m actually kinda jealous, especially since the statue was completely naked. You never posed for m--“

“_Stop_.”

It’s the first and final crack of thunder of an overhead storm. End of story before it starts.

Louis sighs, seemingly disappointed by Liam’s lack of ‘chattiness’. “So, still angry?”

“Tomlinson.”

“Furious, then,“ Louis concludes and Liam pretends he doesn’t notice Louis’ nervous fingers tapping at his sword. Is he scared of Liam? Good. “But don’t be so uncommunicative. You always get things out into the open no matter how uncomfortable they are: words, thoughts, feelings, the charred, ripped out internal organs of your enemies. Just Wonder Boy things, am I right?”

“Louis,“ Liam growls this time, his voice matching the thunder in the distance. He’s not sure why he keeps saying his name instead of attacking. He’s not sure why he’s frozen to the spot. And he’s not sure why Louis doesn’t attack either.

But his cheery mask cracks for a second, eyes soft around the edges.

“I love hearing you say my name.”

Then he’s gone again. Slipping away like he’s never been there. Again. Liam’s jaw works, clenching with tension.

*

Zayn helps him remove his armour and the shirt underneath. Liam realises it’s the first time he’s this naked in front of Zayn, but seeing Louis fucked him up too much to mind Zayn’s lingering eyes. His fingers brush over Liam’s scar, still raised and red. Liam stops his hand and drags it up to his chest, lets him feel the ragged breath in his chest.

"You really saw him?" Zayn asks softly, like he understands. Does he?

"Yeah, he..." All words are lost to him. Louis had always bent the world to his will and left Liam hanging from its edges. It was a kind of power that not even the gods possessed and he used it on Liam. Not bending him or turning him into something he’s not, but helping him turn over and discovering new truths about himself. Once he had loved Louis for that. Now it makes him furious. "I’m so angry."

"Good. You’re allowed to be angry. He fucked you over." Zayn’s warm hand starts to rub circles into his chest, to calm his breathing. "Just try not to drown Camp Half-Blood in this monsoon you brewed up, okay?"

"Oh," Liam sighs at the harsh rain against the windows. "Okay."

"Good boy," Zayn smiles and presses a kiss to his forehead.

It’s so warm and soft it stops the rain, stops the aching, and lets the sun peek through the dark clouds.

*

Caeli is cuddling with Zayn. She’s _cuddling_ with Zayn. She’s resting in the space between Zayn’s legs and chest and coos as her head gets petted. It’s fascinating to see, how Zayn is bringing out a whole new side of Caeli.

But Liam also knows how healing it is to have Caeli close to your heart. It’s something Zayn needs more than ever, even if he still refuses to talk about it. There was one time, just one time, when he stood in Chiron’s study with Liam by his side, demanding to be the leader of a search party for Niall. 

Chiron forbade it because the twins told him that Niall left willingly. 

"He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that to me," Zayn had whispered, his eyes wet with desperation but it didn’t change Chiron’s mind.

He had put a hold on quests, too afraid to lose more children. Liam is the only one allowed to leave, with the prophecy ever so near. But Liam is tired of running into dead ends. He is tired of waking up with panic clawing at his heart. All he can do then is curl himself harder around Zayn, who sometimes plays with his hair until he falls back asleep. The thing with Louis is, that they were always talking, sometimes too much. But with Zayn he doesn’t have to say anything, they can be quiet together and still be happy. There are no misunderstandings when Zayn’s eyes tell him so much.

Liam smiles when Caeli gnaws softly on Zayn’s finger. He moves from his spot to lean against the tree next to them. Caeli stops what she’s doing and blinks up at him, feathers all ruffled up from Zayn’s furious cuddling.

"You have that face again," she says.

Liam raises an eyebrow. "What face?"

"That face you do, when you’re thinking too hard," Zayn adds. "What are you thinking about?"

"You?" Liam tries.

Caeli would laugh if she could, he just knows it. "The good thing about you, Liam, is that you can’t lie. And the worst thing about you is also that you can’t lie."

"She’s right," Zayn insists and Liam frowns. Are they ganging up on him now? Terrible. He loves it. "So what is it? You’re just going to have a headache again."

"Nothing, I’m just… There’s so many things to do and I’m doing nothing."

Now it’s Zayn’s turn to frown. "Is spending time with me ‘nothing’?"

So much for no misunderstandings. "That’s not what I mean and you know it..."

Zayn takes a deep breath, his fingers pinching one of Caeli’s feathers as he lowers his gaze. "I never told you this before because it’s not my place to say it… but I don’t like it when you go on quests."

Liam sighs. "The prophecy s--"

"Yeah. The prophecy. Don’t like that either. It’s not fair of the gods to burden you like this."

Liam can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. All his life everyone told him how they admired him for it, how they wished they could switch places with him and become the hero that he was promised to be. But the people he falls in love with always seem to see things differently. Well, maybe that’s exactly why he falls for them. 

"No, it’s not fair," Liam agrees. "But this is my fate and it will be worth it."

No matter how many doubts he had in his life, this is something that he wholeheartedly believes. That all of this is worth it. He grew up knowing that he’d have to suffer in order to be rewarded with immortality. And even if he was failing, he would have that place in Elysium. Hades had sworn it, even on the River Styx. 

Liam just never expected for Louis to worm his way into his heart. He didn’t expect for Zayn to do the same. Yet here he is, being watched intensely by Caeli, who never questioned any of it. Liam had never asked her if she thought Louis was right. Now the need crawls its way up his throat.

"And you? What do you think?" She ducks her head so her neck almost completely disappears. She’s never done that before. "Caeli?

"It never mattered to me, Liam," she finally admits. "I only care about keeping you safe. And whatever you decide to do, I’ll be right by your side."

Liam tries hard, very hard, not to cry.

He fails. 

*

When Liam meets Louis again it’s on Mount Olympus, which he did not expect. For once Louis is the last thing on his mind actually. He is too busy answering to his father, who does not even spare him a glance as he scolds him, eyes on the clouds as they stand on the highest balcony.

"I’ve heard you’ve been busy, son."

Liam stands up straight, hands behind his back and listening carefully. "What do you mean, father?"

"Painting… songs… love. Did you not learn your lesson?" Zeus turns his head, finally looking at him with a storm in his eyes.

_Did you not learn your lesson?_, the words turn Liam’s insides cold, like a trigger that reminds him of everything bad that ever happened to him. "Father--"

"You know I’m not saying this to cause you any more pain. But indulging in your mortal side… It didn’t just hurt you, it also distracted you from more important tasks."

"I’m sorry." Liam clenches his jaw. It has become a habit that caused him all those headaches. "I know I can do better. I _will_ do better."

Zeus nods, his face softening ever so slightly. "Your chance has come. The wind has carried news of the soulmates hiding in Death Valley. I want you to be done with this before they can trigger the prophecy."

Liam takes a deep breath and steps closer to Zeus, eager to hear more, to hear anything that distracts him from Louis. It’s almost hilarious how the prophecy has dictated his whole life, up to the point that it scared him. But it’s nothing compared to the simple thought of Louis. Nothing else makes his heart heavier. He hates it. He craves it.

"A desert. That makes sense."

"Does it now?" Zeus raises an eyebrow.

Liam swallows. "Your… our power… rain and storm, it’s at its weakest there."

His father nods and finally reaches out to clasp his shoulder in a tight grip. Liam feels like he’s going to faint from the weight of it. 

"You are my favourite son for a reason. You are wise and I know that you are capable of great things. That is why I demand great things from you. You’ll do everything to fulfill the prophecy, won’t you?"

"Of course, father," Liam blurts out, still so pathetically eager to please. It never bothered him in the past, why does it bother him now? He keeps wondering about Louis, about Zayn and about Caeli and… is it worth it?

Zeus’ eyes bore into his own, like they’re looking for something, anything but devotion and love. Liam hopes the tiny seed of doubt Louis has planted inside of him so many months ago does not break through the surface.

"Good," Zeus finally says with a smile. "Very good. Now let’s enjoy the feast and drink, my son. Just don’t let the nymphs bewitch you…. at least not for longer than one tonight. One night is all that anyone deserves from a hero like you."

Liam awkwardly laughs along with his father while he’s being guided back inside. The music immediately swells and almost hurts Liam’s ears. He can’t even quite describe what he sees. A fire burns strongly in the middle of the atrium and music rains from the ceiling like glitter. Sounds can’t be seen but Olympus makes it happen apparently. Heavy drums echo from the walls, caused by the satyrs’ hooves as they twirl nymphs and gods in a mass of bodies. There are other mortals in-between. Mortal lovers, Liam realises. One of them gathers wine in their goblet which splutters from a fountain.

It’s carefree and one of the rare glimpses that show Liam what his life might be like soon enough. When this is over. When the soulmates are dead. He wonders if his immortal heart will think about Louis, if it will remember him with the same rage and grief. He wonders if it will think about Zayn, so full of affection. Only Caeli will stay with him forever.

Zeus lets him go eventually and it’s Apollo with a drunken blush on his cheeks who throws an arm around him. His hair is tied back in a messy top knot and he looks kind of ridiculous. Like he was already drunk when he got here.

"Liam! My bro! What’s up!"

"Uh…"

"Oh no, your goblet is empty, that is such a shame."

Liam doesn’t even have a goblet yet and Apollo snatches one from a napping Hestia. He fills it to the brim and pushes it in Liam’s waiting hands, the biggest smile on his face.

"Drink and the pain will go away."

Liam frowns. "What pain?"

Apollo starts to giggle, honest to the gods _giggle_. "Come on, Liam. You’re still mortal. You still carry your heart on your sleeve. They all see it. Though it’s less achy these days, isn’t it? How is my son treating you?"

"Apollo, please..."

He pokes one finger into Liam’s chest, quite painfully if he’s being honest. "You know you’re technically his uncle, right?"

"Can we not?" Liam grimaces. "If you start to think like that you’ll have to give therapy to everyone in this room."

Apollo’s always so carefree smile suddenly turns dark, more dangerous. Liam’s heart almost stops at the sight, a sight he has never seen before.

"I just want you to know, that I’m very protective of my children. We might not hang out much, but they mean a lot to me. I’d do a lot to protect them, you know?" 

His finger keeps prodding and Liam is pretty sure it will leave a bruise on his chest. "Apollo, I swear I won’t hurt Zayn. He means a lot to me, too."

The god blinks, his lethal smile slowly turning bright again.

"Right! Of course you wouldn’t. Right, right. My lovely Zayn... I should visit him again, I miss his graffiti. He’s _so talented_ it makes me _cry_."

Liam delicately removes Apollo’s arm from around his shoulder to tell him he doesn’t need to worry but the god’s attention is already on a pair of nymphs walzing by and then Liam is alone. Alone with a cup of divine wine. He drains it in one go and spends the next hour by the fountain to drink and refill it. He talks to Ares once who is very annoyed by Hephaestus following him around. Since Aphrodite’s absence he seems to stick to the closest thing to her that he knows, which is the god of war.

Liam should feel at home in this place, should feel the music sing in his veins but it’s nothing like that. It’s like he’s watching everything from the sidelines and his father… his father…

"How about a different drink?" A soft silky voice asks beside him.

The voice belongs to a young man in silk robes with a hood that covers half of his face. He seems otherworldly, shines brightly and even though Liam can barely see his face he knows the man is beautiful. He feels drawn to him immediately and doesn’t even realise how hard he is staring until the man raises a jug into his line of vision.

"The finest nectar you will find."

Liam keeps staring but apparently he’s coherent enough to lift his cup for the man to pour the nectar, golden liquid smelling heavenly. He takes a sip and almost sobs at the taste of Chiron’s tea.

"There you go," the man hums.

"Who are you?" Liam mutters.

"Ganymede. You’re the chosen one."

Liam shakes his head, then laughs, and nods. "Fuck. I really am."

Ganymede’s smile seems kind of blurry and hard to look at. Is the drink doing this to him? He can barely feel the tingle in the tips of his fingers. The immortal man in front of him puts down the nectar and then tugs Liam through the crowds. Liam doesn’t find it odd, is only distracted by Ganymede’s sweet smile as he’s being guided to a different balcony. One that is quiet and padded with cushions, to sit and watch the stars. Ganymede lets go of him to point at the sky and Liam is amazed by how much clearer they are up here.

"The stars. Zeus granted me a constellation of my own, you know?"

"I know," Liam answers, his cup now abandoned on the parapet. "Aquarius, isn’t it?"

Ganymede doesn’t answer, he hugs himself and shivers slightly, as if he’s tortured by a terrible memory. Or maybe he’s just cold.

"It’s not worth it," he whispers, silk robe tightening under his own grip. "Don’t do it."

Liam freezes, everything still so blurry and fuzzy. Damn the nectar that still clings to his lips, that still carries a hint of Louis’ kisses. He doesn’t want to think about him, doesn’t want to think at all and he stumbles backwards when Ganymede suddenly reaches out for him. For a moment he thinks Ganymede is about to push him, but he grabs him tightly and suddenly his back is pressed against the pillar, the man so close, smelling so sweet.

"Just leave it behind, wonder boy."

Liam gasps at the familiar name and gives in to his first instinct, which is to rip off Ganymede’s hood, only to meet an equally familiar grin. Liam stops breathing. His heart stops beating. He stops altogether for a little bit of eternity. It’s worse the second time. When he saw Louis the first time it didn’t feel real, it was like an out of body experience as he watched everything happen.

But now it hits him hard, it hits him hard that Louis was there and then gone and now he is back. So close this time, when Liam feels so vulnerable in the heart of Olympus. He’s never safe from Louis, he never will be and yet his broken heart believes this stupid boy in front of him is the only one to mend it. But he’s not.

"I’m going to kill you," Liam finally breathes and Louis smiles at him, cups his face so gently. It feels so good.

"Will you? Doesn’t your new boyfriend have the honour?"

"Fucking leave Zayn out of this," he hisses, grabbing at Louis’ wrists.

He growls back at Liam, face screwed up in equal anger, rocking back and forth on his heels to make Liam let go of him. But he doesn’t, he physically can’t. His heart screams of heartbreak but his body will hold on for as long as possible. Louis stops fighting then, breathing heavily as they stare at each other. Both sides deciding whether they should kill each other or not. Why is Louis _here_ of all places?

"I saw you," Louis finally says. "Does he kiss you like I did?"

"Stop."

"Does he spread his legs like I did?"

"Fucking _stop_," Liam grunts and clouds draw up in the sky, a distant thunder shaking the floor underneath them.

But Louis, fucking Louis, doesn’t even blink. He’s never been afraid of Liam or his powers, he just took everything in stride. Took everything Liam was offering to him. His love, his heart, his body. There’s nothing left for him to take and Liam is an empty shell trying to shape new pieces to fill up the void inside of him. With Louis being here he gets all of it back, even if just for a moment. He can’t let go, he can’t. He hates him, but he can’t, because he still loves him. Gods.

"Do you remember?" Louis asks uncharacteristically quiet. "What I said the night before I left?"

"What?" Liam shakes his head, too confused to answer.

"I said you should remember everything. I wanted you to not just remember what I did to you."

"How could I think of anything but that? You’re a fucking liar, you knew everything, you planned this. You… you lied. You lied to me."

"Gods, Liam. Lying is the only thing I’m good at and you’re the only one who ever managed to make me feel bad about it. Who made me want to be honest."

There is something in Louis’ eyes that catches him off guard. Something that is so familiar and made Liam hold on to him every time when they were fighting. Something that made Liam approach him in the first place. Hope. There is hope in his eyes and it twinkles like the constellation Liam was promised to have. A while ago, that was all Liam truly ever wanted in his life. And maybe, in this moment, he remembers all of it too well to stop Louis from pressing against his body. Louis, who is always so observant and can read Liam like a map.

"You still want this." Louis breathes into his neck, grinning, always fucking grinning. Liam feels Louis' teeth grazing over his jugular, feels the hard heel of his palm press against the front of his jeans. "You still want _me_, even like this."

"I should kill you." Liam chokes, wants to scream, wants to cry, because it's true, it's _true_.

Louis pulls away and tilts his head and his grin is small and knowing and cuts worse than any knife ever could. "That's not very heroic of you."

Liam growls, about to rip his head off (verbally, physically, he hasn't made up his mind yet) when Louis leans close again and kisses the fire from his mouth. Liam melts, eyes sliding closed and a hand sliding up into the mess of Louis' hair.

Louis hums into Liam's open mouth and sinks his teeth into Liam's lip, drags his bottom lip with a smirk until Liam winces.

He’s still dressed in all too revealing robes, looking so eager as he opens Liam’s jeans. Like he missed him. And Liam doesn’t stop him as he sucks a bruise into his neck, like he missed him, too.

His eyes fall closed again as soon as Louis takes him into his mouth, his brain so muddled by nectar that he wonders if this is really just a hallucination caused by its godly powers. But for one moment it feels like they’re back at Camp Half-Blood, where they met behind the stables. Where Louis used to suck him off and where Liam never stopped him because they both wanted each other so much.

There never was any logical reason behind it, it just happened and felt so, so right. They’ve always felt it in every fiber of their being and that’s all Liam can think about now. The familiarity that he always craved in his life.

"Louis," He croaks and finally allows himself to _see_, to watch. And _gods_, Louis is so good at what he does, knows exactly what Liam likes because he was the one to help him discover it in the first place. But he realises, while he would’ve done everything for Louis, Louis wouldn’t have done everything for him. Just this.

Just this, when Louis swallows him down all the way, choking on Liam’s dick with a moan.  
Just this, when Louis claws his fingers into Liam’s hips, like he still wants to claim him.  
Just this, when Louis looks up at him with those glassy eyes, clearly enjoying it.  
Just this, when he lets Liam twist his hand in his hair as he comes down his throat.

Just this. Liam is nothing more to him than this and the betrayal cut deep, but this cuts deeper, after being so in love that he nearly lost his mind.

So why does Louis look at him like that, after he licks up the come from his bottom lip, after he tucks him back into his jeans. Why does he look at Liam like he wants him to follow him down the rabbit hole where the mad palikari only abide by their own rules?

Liam lets his head fall back against the wall with a dull thud, his chest heaving as Louis drags himself back up to his feet. He leans heavily on Liam and Liam lets him, lets Louis catch his breath in the crook of Liam’s sweaty neck.

With Louis’ soft little gusts of breath, his mouth open against Liam’s throat, it feels more intimate than anything they’ve just done. It’s a twist of a dagger in Liam’s guts, jamming up between his ribs and into his heart.

His hand touches briefly the back of Louis’ head, fingertips gently cradling his skull. Louis tenses beneath the touch and turns his head slowly and minutely. Their noses brush. Louis’ eyes are tellingly shining. 

Their parting is unceremonious after that, the spell is broken and now they avoid each other’s eyes like a gorgon’s stare.

It may just be his fatal flaw but Liam just really can’t leave something unsaid, especially not when it feels like it’s about to claw its way out of his chest. He’s walking away when he abruptly stops and turns around, to find Louis paused and already staring right back at him, mouth parted with something on the tip of his tongue.

Louis freezes when Liam stares back silently and he turns away after what feels like an age, melting into the shadows without a backwards glance like he was never there in the first place.

The party ends abruptly for Liam after that, and back at camp Liam storms to the showers and slams the stall door so hard behind himself it rattles in its frame. Liam hopes it echoes throughout the valley of camp like a thunderclap. He’s always been one to express exactly how he’s feeling but there’s no one here to talk it out with, or scream it out with, or spar, so door slamming and shower breakdowns will have to do for tonight.

Liam braces his arms against the shower wall and clenches his fists. The light overhead erratically flickers on and off with his heavy breathing and he knows it’s because of him. He’s never worried about electrocuting himself before or if it’s even possible but right now it’d be welcome punishment.

Liam tips his head back and stands under the scalding hot spray of the shower and washes away the shame threatening to drown him. What’s worse than the shame of what he’s done is how very badly he wishes that Louis were standing there in his arms, pressing that familiar cheshire cat grin into his bared neck.

Liam bites his lip, closing his teeth over where Louis’ had been not even an hour ago. Indecision gnaws at him but he can’t help himself, he never can when it comes to Louis. Liam lets his hand slide down his belly and with the memory of Louis’ face buried between his legs, lets his hand slide further and curl around himself.

He’s choking on a gasp at just the first stroke. It’s nothing compared to Louis though, not even remotely close.

It’s that thought that leaves him suddenly lightheaded. He knows what Louis’ touch is like. His mouth, his hands. He was _never_ meant to know, couldn’t, for Louis’ safety, but he knows and he’ll never forget it.

The even more sudden guilt stills his hand. When he looks down he squints through the pouring water and tries to imagine Zayn’s hand instead of his own or Louis’.

Liam lets out a choked sob. He can’t go back to cabin one and Zayn asleep in his bunk. Zayn, who’s probably keeping Liam’s side of the bunk warm for when he gets home. Loyal, loving, dedicated Zayn. Another sob rips through him, full-bodied and leaving him gasping.

_Zayn, Louis, Zayn and Louis_. He loves them both so much, he didn’t think a love like this could even exist. It feels like his heart is tearing itself apart with how hard he’s trying to deny himself. He did it all for them, to keep them from hurt and all he’s done is hurt himself in the process.

_Messiah complex,_ an achingly familiar voice drawls. 

Liam’s never felt shame like it, fraternising with a traitor who he loves and cheating on his boyfriend who he loves. Not even his doubts of being the chosen one compare to this. He doesn’t even want to drown in this shitty shower stall, he wants to live with the guilt for as long as he can, his penance. It’s what he deserves.

“Liam?”

His eyes snap open. “Caeli?” He asks thickly.

“Just making sure you haven’t drowned.” She says, purposely with no inflection.

Liam chokes on a bitter laugh. He should be so lucky.

“You can’t stay in there forever, Liam.”

He rests his forehead against the shower wall. “I can try.”

“Try growing gills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a month to update I'm so sorry aksdjfhdfg I (squishy) was dealing with a lot of stuff and didn't have much time to write ANYTHING. But I think we're gonna make the next chapters a bit shorter the updates will be more regularly :) If you'd like that.
> 
> Kudos and comments are, as always, appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

His jaw aches, his knees are scraped and Louis should feel on top of the fucking world right about now.

Except he only feels…..kind of empty. It’s surreal, he’s so used to feeling everything and keeping it bottled up until he explodes in his own way.

Sure there’s a bounce in his step when he returns to their hideout and he’s welcomed back warmly by his people (_his people_, it still makes him scoff but it’s technically true, isn’t it?) but he can’t not feel like something is missing. And he knows, of course he knows, that that something is actually someone. And that someone is Liam.

Louis doesn’t regret that it happened (and neither had Liam, who’d sighed _yes_ and gripped Louis’ hair hard enough to hurt so good) just the circumstances, the situation. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, on Mount Olympus, but he couldn’t fucking help himself. They deserve all the horribly sweet stuff like falling asleep all tangled up in each other and waking up together. Well, Louis doesn’t deserve that, but Liam does. He has that with Zayn Malik now and Louis is not jealous _at all_.

He doesn't want to shower, doesn’t want to change his clothes and lose what little proof of their union he greedily treasures. But the metallic taste of Liam is already fading from Louis’ bitten mouth and the possessive purpling bruises will soon fade too. It’s depressing (and even more depressing that he wants Liam’s mark on him in the first place)

Louis tugs the collar of his robe up and he’s so close to calling today quits and brooding alone in his bed when he hears twin giggles echoing through the empty corridor. They can only belong to two people.

Gunner Gunnerson, a son of Ares who joined Louis from day one, is posted on lookout outside Louis’ rooms. He grins sympathetically when he sees Louis approach and Louis sighs.

“Alright, where’s Thing One and Thing Two?” He asks, already regretting the answer.

“Trashing your room if you’re lucky, burning it down if you’re not.” Gunnar snorts.

Louis sighs again, his chances of a quiet night truly dead and buried. Or trashed and burning. “Remind me again why they remind everyone of me?”

Gunnar opens his mouth but Louis pats his chest as he weaves his way past him and to the door. “Rhetorical question. Give me a call if I’m needed. Not saying I’ll actually answer but you can call all the same.”

“Will do, boss.” Gunnar grins, giving him a little salute in the low light.

Well, they are not trashing his room but there _are_ two monkeys bouncing on his bed like children who have the time of their lives. As soon as they hear Louis slam the door shut they start to scream and cling to each other like children in a horror movie.

"You know I’m all for breaking rules but I think I specifically told you to never bother me in my own fucking room."

Thing One whose actual name is Passalus immediately bursts into tears. “Rude! We’re only trying to help!”

“Help give me a hernia and a migraine.” Louis rubs his eyes tiredly. “And you wanna know rude? Rude is not acknowledging your child for the entirety of their lives, that’s rude.”

“He has a point.” Thing Two, Acmon, agrees. “And laughing at someone’s buttocks is rude too.”

“That was one time.” Passalus defends. “And you were laughing too.”

“And we went down in ancient history for it.”

“Hubris.”

“Yep. Would’ve preferred the accidental-hero.”

“Effort.”

Louis drops his shoes on the floor loud enough to stop the monkeys’ bickering. He stares them down while he takes off the robe he stole from Ganymede’s quarters, still thankful that Zeus never stopped him to ‘chat’.

"Oh great, now he’s naked."

"We’ll, he never said we couldn’t look."

"Eww, Passalus."

Louis slips into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, ignoring their scandalised chatter. He’s had a rough evening and he doesn’t have much patience left for the monkeys.

"So why are you here?" He asks and shoos them off of his bed. They immediately back off and grab at each other nervously.

"We brought you another demigod. We looked out for them on the streets, just like you asked."

"Cause we always do what you ask," Passalus adds.

Louis carefully sits down on the edge of his bed, like a comfortable throne from where he can watch them properly. Sometimes he wonders if it’s just an act or if they’re actually afraid of him. He’s just a demigod like everyone else, right? But those immortal things, those cercopes, they always look at him like he has the power to smite them.

Like he is a god.

He frowns to himself, or maybe at them, and Acmon laughs awkwardly.

"Anyway, he’s a very cool son of Ares who dedicated his life to cyberwar. Isn’t that neat?"

Both Passalus and Louis cringe at his attempt to sound cool.

"What about the other one?" Louis asks instead. "The one who tamed Orthrus."

"Ohhhh, right!" Acmon says and clasps his hands together. "We haven’t seen him in weeks, but… he’s not interested."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "Not interested?"

"Yeah," Passalus continues. "Doesn’t want to join your gang."

"Don’t think he wants anything, really."

"You think he gave up?"

"We should check up on him."

"Yeah, we should."

"Alright," Louis sighs and waves his hand at them. "You can leave. And don’t show up in my room again cau-- wait, did you eat my cookies?"

"Oh look, it’s late already!" Acmon suddenly pipes up and grabs for Passalus’ hand. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Tomlinson."

"So grateful," Passalus adds as they waddle to the door.

Louis takes another mournful look at his empty bag of cookies, sighing to himself when the monkeys halt at the door with one raised finger.

"Um..."

"What?" Louis growls.

"Can we have money for a cab?"

Louis throws the empty cookie bag after them.

*

"You know…" Louis stares at all the crashed urns in their lair that used to be filled with divine potions and deadly poisons. "When they called you the ‘god of destruction’, that’s not quite what I thought the name meant."

Namjoon looks so embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck. Skye on the other hand seems very much amused, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder in fake sympathy while she tries not to laugh.

"I’m sorry," Namjoon grumbles. "I was categorising them and then--"

"Why were you categorising them?" Louis asks and kicks at a shard of one of the urns. 

"So we know what’s in which urn in case we use them?"

Louis frowns. "We steal them, we don’t use them."

"Except for the greek fire?" Skye asks him with a frown.

"Yeah, that was an exception."

"But..." Namjoon and Skye share a glance.

"What?"

She takes a deep breath as she looks at the mess on the floor. "One of the poisons is missing. We thought you took it."

Louis swallows. He didn’t. And that is a huge fucking problem. Because it means either an outsider took it or one of his Palikari. Both would be bad news, meaning that someone found out about their hiding place or someone is acting on their own. Louis never really wanted to be a leader, never felt like one anyway, but the things they stole are his responsibility. It’s something he is not supposed to lose control over and yet this mess on the floor, poison mingling with potions, shards of thousand year old urns scattered around, is a perfect metaphor for how he feels right now.

"Get rid of it." He looks at the few urns that are left on the shelves. "All of it."

"You sure?" Skye asks.

"Is it because I fucked it all up? I’m really sorry, hyung."

Louis immediately reaches out to mess up Namjoon’s silver mohawk. "It’s not about that."

Skye continues squeezing the boy’s shoulder, in real sympathy this time. "Is it because we don’t know who took the potion?" She asks Louis.

"Yes. An over-eager demigod could ruin everything. Can you find out who took it? For me?"

They both nod immediately and Louis’ heart is fucking soft. They grew so much on him that he almost wants to tell them about the other night with Liam. He also wants to ask if they can climb into bed with him and give him a cuddle because he would really appreciate a good cuddle. He doesn’t though. Instead he gives them a smile and turns away.

"Where are you going?" Skye asks.

"Step 9 in my 10 steps plan," He declares and casually taps his foot on the ground before he jumps out of a window.

*

Liam desperately wishes it to be a one off, that the guilt of his betrayal to Zayn (especially after Niall’s disappearance) is enough to make him see sense once and for all, but Liam knows he would let Louis back into his life every single time and he kind of does, in the dreams that follow, like a stray cat looking for scraps of food or love or validation. Or maybe Liam’s the one looking for validation and love. He doesn’t know what to think about that but he does know that he can’t sleep at night and it’s affecting him in every way possible. Even his dreams plague him on the nights he downs enough nectar to serious toe the limit of what his demigod body can handle.

At some point Louis bled into him like a toxin, snaked his way into Liam’s being and now there’s a very distinct Louis-shaped void in his heart he’s desperately trying to ignore or on the worst days (every day) push himself to the brink of exhaustion in training.

But he isn’t sleeping and the toll is starting to take, he’s seeing double of every inanimate object and triple of every animate one. He can’t concentrate on even the simplest of tasks in the waking day, ones he could do in his sleep (if he _could_ sleep) and when he can’t even manage to parry a simple swipe from his thirteen year old opponent without getting his wrist sprained, Chiron decides it’s time to intervene.

“Liam, my boy--“

“I’m not talking about this,” Liam grits out as Chiron bandages and splints his aching wrist. “Just pass me the nectar.”

Chiron contemplates him silently. He raised Liam better than that and shame floods Liam immediately.

“Please?” He adds, but it’s more like a harsh bark and even Liam himself can hear the tightly strained desperation in his voice.

“_I cannot bear seeing you like this, Liam_.” Chiron says quietly in Ancient Greek, barely above a murmur, cradling Liam’s injured hand in his own. “_I cannot bear the thought of you suffering and there not being a single thing for me to do to help you_.”__

_ _“_I’m fine_.” Liam lies hollowly. He thinks his jaw is gonna snap with the tension of his clenched teeth. Better that than crying his eyes out in Chiron’s arms like when he was a boy (even if that's exactly what he wants to do), better _that_ than let Chiron know what kind of person he is now._ _

_ _“No, you’re not fine.” Chiron says, infinitely pained. “There is no physical wound to heal, it goes much deeper than that. You have to let yourself _feel_ it, Liam. It’s the only hope you have of living your life with the burden of it.”_ _

_ _“If I let myself feel it,” Liam starts slowly, pushing the words out like shards of glass slicing his tongue. “I think it’d kill me.”_ _

_ _*_ _

_ _Liam stands at the slim mouth of the maze and presses his hand to the shuddering walls, breathing with unseen life._ _

_ _Not a maze, a labyrinth._ _

_ _Louis stands at the narrow opening of the labyrinth and Liam watches with detached horror and curiosity as Louis reaches a hand into his chest like he’s a ghost and pulls four red threads from his red, pulsing heart._ _

_ _Louis starts to hand them off to the three shadowy figures at Liam’s side; one on his right and two on his left. He thinks he might maybe recognise one of them but they’re a flurry of black and grey, indistinguishable._ _

_ _The four of them each hold onto one of his lifelines, the threads of his heart and very being. Liam touches with reverent fingertips to where they meld into his chest. When he glances back up Louis and a shadowy figure turn and disappear to the right of the labyrinth and the two other shadowy figures enter the labyrinth and take the left, the lifelines of his heart tugging as he watches them disappear too._ _

_ _It leaves the centre path into the labyrinth stretching into the unknown, Liam can’t even see where it ends, _if_ it ends. _ _

_ _But he doesn’t need Chiron’s prophetic dream lessons to know what this is. It’s a choice, _his_ choice. Take the path to the right and follow his heart, take the left and follow his soul (he can _feel_ his soul aching for the left path) or ignore both and follow his fate, walk sure and straight into the known unknown. _ _

_ _Liam takes a heavy step forward and he jolts silently awake so suddenly he can still see the gaping labyrinth when he blinks. He’s back in his bunk, sweating through his pyjamas._ _

_ _Caeli’s awake, watching him with sharp moonlit eyes. Liam lays a palm over his heart (whole, no threads) and turns away from her knowing gaze, curling himself around Zayn instead. He always sleeps like a rock, barely breathing, never moving. Liam wonders if he also has dreams like that. Dreams that wake him up and make him want to hold on to Liam._ _

_ _He does cling to Liam in the morning, already awake, which is a rare thing. He plays with the tips of Liam’s hair, twists small strands between thumb and forefinger. Liam cranes his neck to kiss his wrist and Zayn smiles, features still soft from sleep, so very unaware of what Liam has done. The memory still boils hot in his stomach for two different reasons and one is so dark and bitter he doesn’t dare to tell Zayn._ _

_ _"Another quest," Zayn whispers into the silence of the room. Caeli is out to hunt now, so they’re alone in this ridiculously small bunk bed and Zayn is ridiculously beautiful in the soft morning light. "How do you feel?"_ _

_ _"Optimistic," Liam says as his hand travels down Zayn’s back to keep him close._ _

_ _Zayn hums and suddenly leans in to kiss him, making a shock of lightning travel down Liam’s spine. It’s enough to make Zayn reel back and lick his lips in surprise._ _

_ _"Sorry," Liam mumbles. "I was just… very excited."_ _

_ _Zayn grins at that and throws one of his legs over Liam’s hip to get him on top of him, where he feels Zayn’s hard dick press against his own._ _

_ _"You’re not the only one who is excited."_ _

_ _"Now?" Liam almost panics. "I have to leave in an hour. We’ve never..."_ _

_ _"Never done it, but always thought about it. I don’t like it when you leave… but I’ll be less mad about it when you make me come."_ _

_ _"Gods," Liam breathes and it’s like a switch is flipped, like he suddenly realises how hot Zayn really is. How could he hold back until now? Perhaps he was only thinking with his heart._ _

_ _With Louis it had been the other way around. His heart had to catch up to the bone shattering need to be close to him. None of those approaches are better than the other, but both are so all consuming that Liam feels desperate._ _

_ _"Come here," Zayn whispers and drags him into another kiss, his thumbs hooking into Liam’s pyjama bottoms. "I’ll take good care of you."_ _

_ _Liam moans against Zayn’s lips when he takes both of them in hand, when he lets Liam fuck into the tight circle of his fingers. He tries not to compare, tries not to think about Louis, as he tried not to think about Zayn when he was with Louis. But it’s always the two of them in his head and in his heart. His stupid heart that keeps vomiting red strings of fate like it’s trying to ruin Liam’s life._ _

_ _Those threads, that Liam tries to ignore… He tries to ignore everything that doesn’t have to do with his prophecy, but everything comes crashing down on him at the end, makes him feeling like he’s choosing _wrong_. But did he ever have a choice at all?_ _

_ _"I love you," Liam tells Zayn, with their sweaty foreheads pressed together. "I love you..."_ _

_ _He didn’t mean to say it in the middle of sex. He always thought Zayn deserved better than that. But the feeling is still true and real, is tearing at his divided heart. Stupid, stupid heart. Liam wants to cut it out so it stops speaking in riddles._ _

_ _And Zayn suddenly comes, at this declaration of love, and Liam can see that he’s embarrassed about it, that he tries to hide his face but Liam doesn’t let him, repeats it over and over again as he keeps thrusting his hips._ _

_ _"Fuck, can you just..." Zayn lets go of his own dick so he can fully concentrate on Liam, stroking him fast now in tandem with his movements. "Just come all over me, Liam. Come on."_ _

_ _Liam looks between them, watches Zayn using his own come to make the slide easier. His hand is so pretty, covered in tattoos and holding his dick. It’s hot, it makes him feel close, makes him come with a growl that he buries in Zayn’s neck._ _

_ _They’re breathing heavily, catching their breaths, but nothing is louder than the pounding of Liam’s heart in his own ears, reminding him of his mortality. Sometimes he forgets that he is not yet a god. Sometimes he forgets that nothing is set in stone._ _

_ _Sometimes he forgets, and the reminder is like a punch to the gut. He’s just caught in the air, hanging by thin threads. Always threads._ _

_ _"I love you too," Zayn finally mumbles and Liam tries to hide his tears in Zayn’s skin._ _

_ _When he leaves an hour later, with three other demigods, he says goodbye to Zayn with the softest kiss he can muster. It’s an _I love you_, a _thank you_, an _I will come back_ and he hopes that Zayn understands_ _

_ _Zayn smiles because he always understands._ _

_ _*_ _

_ _The desert is hot. It’s hot and no daughter of Poseidon can change that. Cordelia is trying to extract every little bit of water to cool them down, but it’s…_ _

_ _"So fucking hot," Bahar complains and tries to fan air under her Hijab. "Why did you choose me to go with you and not someone who doesn’t have to wear ten layers of fabric? I hate you."_ _

_ _Liam sighs and wipes the sweat off of his forehead. "If we fight the soulmates I need someone who can potentially charm speak them."_ _

_ _"Like that would work," she mutters under her breath._ _

_ _Liam can’t blame any of them for being in a sour mood. They’ve walked for hours and have found nothing yet. Zeus told him that the soulmates have chosen the heart of Death Valley as a deadly throne for a deadly mission, so if there are more reasons to hate them, this is definitely one._ _

_ _But for once he is hopeful. For once his lead comes from Olympus itself, not from the whisper of a drunken dryad or a desperate satyr. He is not alone this time, he chose his companions well and he will not fail this time. He will not fail at all. Once it’s done his heart will heal from this mortal pain. He’ll become numb to it, just like every other god._ _

_ _"What’s that?" Cordelia asks as she points ahead to a parking place and a row of green bushes. Or maybe they’re supposed to be trees. With this desert, no one can be sure. But there’s a house too, white with an orange roof._ _

_ _"Scotty’s castle," says the son of Nike. "I studied the map before we came here. It’s like a… museum?"_ _

_ _"You think they’re hiding there?" Bahar asks._ _

_ _"Well, we’re going to find out," Liam says and looks up to the sky where Caeli is drawing her circles. "Keep your weapons ready."_ _

_ _But the ‘castle’ is empty as far as Liam can tell. No staff and no tourists, which already is a bad sign. If the soulmates are hiding here… Did they kill people? Liam holds on to his spear, with the demigods close behind him._ _

_ _"Liam, there’s no one here. At least no one I can see from above," Caeli informs him as she lands on the railing of the staircase. _ _

_ _"Thank you."_ _

_ _He keeps watchful eyes on his surroundings, but it becomes very clear very soon that they’re alone._ _

_ _No soulmates._ _

_ _No one but them._ _

_ _Liam feels like a fool. He turns to the son of Nike, who he had chosen carefully because he has never lost a battle, has always succeeded at everything in his life, accomplished every quest and conquered every prophecy._ _

_ _He stares at Liam with wide eyes, shocked at this new sensation of having _failed_. He looks pale and exhausted and suddenly he doubles over to empty his stomach all over the floor._ _

_ _"Ew," Cordelia comments while Bahar rushes to his side to help him._ _

_ _"It’s okay," she says and rubs circles into his back. "Take a deep breath."_ _

_ _Liam feels quite sick himself, sick of this world and this prophecy. He was so sure this time. So sure that he’d find them and put himself out of this misery, one way or another. But instead he’s cursed to continue this existence of being a disappointment to his father._ _

_ __Zeus’ favourite son._ Will Zeus still call him that next time they meet? Doubt claws at his insides._ _

_ _To distract himself from it he helps looking after the young demigod, who seems a bit more healthy again after Cordelia managed to find him some water. But he’s still pale and playing nervously with the three rings in his ear while he stares at the floor._ _

_ _"I’m sorry…." He mutters._ _

_ _"What for?" Liam asks._ _

_ _"Obviously you took me with you so you would win against the soulmates. Turns out I’m the worst good luck charm _ever_."_ _

_ _"Jungkook... "_ _

_ _"Call me JK."_ _

_ _"JK… I’m the one to blame here because I keep dragging demigods with me and lead them into dead ends. I’m sorry to all of you."_ _

_ _They sit down in a circle, all four of them, exhausted to the bone and faintly sober from the high of the prophecy. They all followed him in the hopes to be part of something greater. But at the end of the day, they’re nothing more than pawns in a godly game. And for the first time Liam doesn’t feel special, feels just like them. His life of handing out autographs, his own face plastered on a mythomagic card. It all seems like a joke._ _

_ _"Liam..." Bahar speaks up suddenly, her face opening up to something that looks like guilt. "I never told you."_ _

_ _"Told me what?" He asks and reaches out for Caeli who nuzzles against the palm of his hand._ _

_ _"You know that my sister joined Louis… and I didn’t… I didn’t tell you that he talked to me too."_ _

_ _Liam freezes and looks up to her, his hand stilling on Caeli’s back. "What?"_ _

_ _There’s something else written all over her face, not just guilt, or maybe not guilt at all. Sadness. Sadness over everything that has happened. _ _

_ _"The only thing he ever offers is to take your fate into your own hands and show the gods what you are made of. He wants us to find a different path. I don’t think he sees what he did as betrayal. He’s just doing his own thing."_ _

_ _Liam swallows. "So why didn’t you join him?"_ _

_ _Bahar shakes her head. "I did," she whispers. "I’m just a spy."_ _

_ _"What?" Caeli hisses._ _

_ _JK looks like he’s going to vomit again and Cordelia’s mouth hangs open._ _

_ _"No one at Camp Half-Blood cares that Aphrodite is gone, Liam. No one knows what happened to her and Chiron never offered us anything. But Pheme did. She adopted all of us." She’s wiping at the corner of her eyes now. "She’s one of the few gods that is on our side."_ _

_ _"Pheme…" Liam mutters and frowns. _Goddess of fame and rumours_. He sucks in a sharp breath._ _

_ _ _The wind has carried news of the soulmates hiding in Death Valley…_ _ _

_ _Liam’s eyes briefly meet Caeli’s and panic rises in his throat. "Bahar, what did you do..."_ _

_ _Bahar shakes her head again, drying her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. "It’s the wrong question, Liam. Why do you think Pheme took us under her wing?"_ _

_ _Liam suddenly jumps to his feet, eyes widening in horror. "Louis… He told her… he...."_ _

_ _"He wanted you out of Camp Half-Blood," Caeli realises before Liam does._ _

_ _And he doesn’t dare to ask why, can’t even think about his biggest nightmare that’s so close to becoming real. Caeli is right behind him when he runs out of the building, and he knows Cordelia is following him too, crying out his name._ _

_ _Bahar and JK don’t, choosing a different path for themselves right in this moment. And what can Liam do? Everything’s slipping out of his hand. Everyone is three steps ahead of him. _ _

_ _So what will happen if he starts to run?_ _

_ _By the time he passes the border of Camp Half-Blood another day has passed. He’s drenched in sweat and Caeli and Cordelia are still by his side. He can barely feel his legs anymore, can barely feel himself in his own skin, his organs must be upside down. Because he knows, as soon as he meets Chiron by the cabins, he knows._ _

_ _But he still has to ask, with the little bit of breath that is left inside of him._ _

_ _"Where is Zayn?" He asks._ _

_ _But he knows, yeah he knows, and he screams._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We keep promising that things will be better soon and we know it doesn't look like it but it's true asdkjfhfg


	8. INTERLUDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Interlude.

“See you soon,” Liam murmurs, leaning down to kiss him so softly it makes his toes curl.

“Soon.” Zayn smiles, still tired from the afterglow, and watches Liam disappear into the car with Argus and three other demigods, off to finally fulfill his prophecy. Zayn feels a sharp spike of pain, yet also sympathy because he knows Liam is probably exhausted with everything he’s dealing with on top of his unwavering support since Niall… since Niall.

Zayn’s more than fucking ready to call it a day, a night, a fucking year on this Hades of a fucking day and be done with everything and everyone in it. That is until someone from the edge of the forestline calls out mildly. “Don’t you both make a cute couple.”

The automatic _thanks_, is on the tip of his tongue before the realisation of who’s voice that is makes him whirl on the spot.

“Louis?” He asks incredulously.

“He never kissed me like that.” Louis says matter of factly, purposely detached and watching where Liam disappeared to not a few moments ago. His eyes slide to Zayn then, almost pinning him to the spot with just a look, but the smile that stretches his mouth is unreadable. “_You_ never kissed me like that.”

Zayn blinks, so shocked at Louis _here_ and saying _that_, he doesn’t really get a say in his snapped reply. “I’ve had my mouth on every inch of you, chances are I’ve kissed you like that. _Also_, that was fucking years ago.” When neither of them even dreamed about ever having the chance of being close to Liam.

Louis grins sharply. “Touchy.”

“Oh fuck off, Louis. What are you even doing here? Do you know what’ll happen if you’re caught?”

“I’m good at not being caught.” Louis shrugs and unfolds his arms, pushing away from the tree he’s leant against. “How’s the thunder head?”

“Don’t call him that.” Zayn scowls, protective. “You have no idea what you did to him when you left.”

“Apparently I left you to pick up the pieces of his little broken heart.”

“Louis,” Zayn suddenly says, desperately, choking on everything he’s tried so hard not to say since Louis left camp and Liam arrived in his life. Who _could_ he have said it to? “Gods, I can’t pretend to fully understand what you’ve done but this isn’t _you_. I know you. You don’t do shit like this. You aren’t—“

Louis twists the hem of Zayn’s shirt between his gloved fingers, brushing the skin of his stomach and the waistband of his jeans. Zayn bites his lip.

“Did you miss me like I missed him?” Louis asks him quietly. “Did you ever think of me when you’re with him? Touching him? Kissing him? Loving him?”

Zayn shudders, and he’s kind of proud of himself that he doesn’t fucking _whine_. “Stop it, I can’t deal with this shit right now, Louis. My fucking—“ his voice breaks, shatters like a mirror in the night. “My fucking _brother_ didn’t come back from his quest.”

Louis frowns, the sultry look disappearing immediately and a concerned one taking its place because despite a cabin full of siblings there’s only one person Zayn means when he says _my brother_.

“Niall’s dead?”

“_No!_” Zayn shoves Louis away hard and grabs two rough handfuls of his own hair in frustration. “I don’t fucking know. Maybe. He didn’t come home. Mr. D’s twins showed up one day after a quest and that was fucking that. End of story, write him off.”

Louis slowly winds his way closer. “Did they send out a search party?”

“No.” Zayn huffs. “Chiron won’t allow it and no new prophecies from Tess either. If Chiron just let me leave I _know_ I could find him. I _need_ to find him, I need—“

“Zayn.” Louis says lowly and presses forward, laying a palm flat to Zayn’s bare neck. Zayn shudders again at the heat of it, at how close Louis is and how much he’s _missed_ him despite everything and how right this feels, how _wrong_. “I know what you need, and I know what you want. And I know that if you stay here, trapped and forced into a life that’s not yours with a parent who doesn’t care....” Louis flinches and shakes his head. “Just let me help you.”

Louis’ hand drifts up to cup Zayn’s stubbly cheek and Zayn’s mouth parts beneath Louis’ thumb.

“Help me with what?” Zayn breathes, because it _hurts_, like a crossbow bolt to his own heart. It hurts so much but it hurts worse to ignore it. He needs to hear it, he knows. “Tell me.”

“I’m gonna help you find your brother.” Louis murmurs and seals the deal, their fate, with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OUR PROMISE STILL STANDS


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam finally takes matters into his own hands. Fates be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE SO SORRY. NO SQUISHY IS VERY SORRY. The first few months I was feeling really sick and then Corona hit us and I was really depressed. But it's here now! I promise the next update won't take as long.

Liam finds himself at the foot of Zayn’s abandoned bed in the hollow feeling Apollo cabin, Niall’s beloved guitar smashed into a million sharp wooden shards covering the soft quilt.

The quilt Zayn held him under, held him in his arms when the world and its expectations got too heavy for him. The thought, the memory, both sensory and visually, rises unbidden in his mind and it drives Liam to his knees, winded, wounded.

How do you survive your heart being carved out twice? He can’t answer (might cough up blood) but he thinks his heart wants to do a bit of carving of its own and before he knows it he’s hotwiring the van, ready to hunt down someone other than soulmates for once.

But suddenly Chiron is there, with an expression so sad and heavy with loss. Liam doesn’t understand why he’s looking at him like that. Is he worried about what Liam might do? What he might turn into? He doesn’t need to worry.

"I’ll be back soon," Liam promises, but Chiron’s face remains unchanged.

Instead he wraps up Liam in his arms, in a way he hasn’t done in years and it makes the young hero destined to become a god crumble like a little boy.

It’s only for a split second but Chiron’s hand gently settles at the back of Liam’s head, holds him close to him in an embrace as if it might just be the last they ever have and dread courses through Liam’s veins like poison. Why isn’t Chiron saying something?

"My dearest boy," Chiron murmurs into his hair then, voice low and full of emotion. Liam desperately grips him tighter, he knows this is the end. Chiron releases him then, in more ways than one. “Go.” He whispers and Liam does.

*

Louis sits back in his chair as Ivy and Skye heave a huge package onto the wobbly table.  
It’s covered in OPS tape with a ‘fragile’ warning on top of it and the girls step back, sweaty and panting. They’re not uttering a single word as Louis stands up to examine it. The cardboard has no dent or scratch, the exceptional high quality of his dad’s godly service mocking him right in his face.

"It’s from my father," Louis mutters and the right decision would be to send it back immediately. Send it back with a sticker on top that says ‘I’m coming for you too’ or something equally threatening that Hermes will probably laugh at. "Fuck."

He shouldn’t open it, yet he’s already reaching into his pocket for the folding knife he got from Pheme the other day. It’s made of shiny celestial bronze, the only metal that’s capable of tearing divine tape.

He opens it carefully, slowly, and braces himself for a clown or something to jump out of it at soon as he lifts the lid. He quickly peeks inside and really wishes what he saw was a clown instead. He drops the lid with an annoyed groan and sits back in his chair.

Skye and Ivy watch him nervously.

"What is it?" Skye asks but Louis shakes his head.

"Nothing you have to worry about. I’ll take care of it." He puts a hand down on the closed lid and shoots a glance at the two demigods. "Leave, please."

Their eyes widen and Ivy bows quickly before they leave in a hurry. What the fuck, why is she bowing to him? He’s noticed it before, especially the new arrivals have started to bow to him whenever they see him and that’s not something he wants to become a thing. He’ll talk to Namjoon about it so he can put an end to that. No one should bow to Louis, that’s… ridiculous.

He takes a deep breath, making sure the footsteps have faded into the distance, then he opens it again. He takes a better look this time and then clicks his tongue with a shake of his head.

"Do you think that’s funny?" He asks his father, knowing he can hear him. "You know me better than that, don’t you?"

He slams down the lid and grabs his denim jacket from the back of his chair. There’s three things he found out tonight. One, his father is apparently the only god besides Pheme who knows where he’s hiding. Two, his father did not tell Zeus about it. And three, his father thinks he needs help.

All three of those revelations annoy him but don’t surprise him. Just like Louis, Hermes has his own agenda he follows and thinks he can manipulate others into doing what he wants. But Louis will not take the bait. 

He’s a son of Hermes after all.

*

"So there’s no free rooms or beds, huh?"

"Exactly."

Louis crawls into bed next to Zayn and proceeds to climb on top of him, straddling his waist while his hands are planted on the sheets next to Zayn’s head. He smirks down at him, waits for Zayn to do something, either pull him close or throw him off, but he does neither. He just stares up at Louis like he’s trying to figure him out, but oh he knows already, doesn’t he? Louis is easy, he’s not a mystery. He’s just pretending to be hard to read, pretending to be smart, winging it all the way.

"I love him," Zayn says eventually. "And so do you."

Well, that is not the conversation Louis has been anticipated. He groans and sits down on Zayn’s thighs, turning his head away to look at the wall instead. Everything comes back to Liam, doesn’t it?

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Louis asks. "I thought we were having a good time."

Zayn sighs. "This is not about having a good time. We have a deal."

Louis is annoyed. Of course he knows but that doesn’t mean they can’t have fun! It hurts to think about Liam and it hurts to be alone. It hurts to know that Liam loves another boy and now that boy is rejecting him too.

"I know," Louis croaks. "You’ve been out there every day since I brought you here and I provided you with as many demigods as possible to help you find Niall. What do I get out of the deal though?"

Zayn frowns and reaches up to forcefully grab Louis’ chin, turning it back so they face each other.

"Do you think I’m a whore?" Zayn asks quietly.

Louis freezes. "No! No… I just..."

"You’re such a fucking idiot, Tomlinson. You’re so lonely and you don’t even know what you’re doing. You don’t know what you actually want. So what am I supposed to offer?"

It’s the question Louis doesn’t know how to answer, the question he’s been asking himself ever since this whole Palikari thing got out of hand. All he wanted to do was annoy the gods for the rest of his life. He didn’t plan to fall in love and he didn’t plan to be alone at the top of the food chain. Right now he’s always two steps ahead, the reign in his hands with an army to follow him into death. Yet all he ever thinks about these days is Liam.

He remembers flying across the sky above Camp Half-Blood with Caeli right next to him. He’d asked Caeli if it she gets lonely up here and all she had said was: _I’m never alone. Liam is with me._.

_Liam is with me_. Gods. How Louis wished that was still true for him. There’s a thousand plans in his head and they all culminate in the chosen one. So it’s not like he doesn’t know what he wants. He knows. But he doesn’t know how to say it out loud.

"There’s so much..." Louis says eventually and drops his whole body on top of Zayn, face buried in his neck. "People depend on me and I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time… I’m just a fraud."

Zayn is silent, his hand resting on the back of Louis’ neck. His thumb grazes his skin ever so softly, the slightest pressure making him go completely limp. He’s touch-starved and he knows that Zayn’s hands have touched Liam the same way. They’re different from Liam’s, so unmistakably Zayn’s, softer than those of a warrior but firm and in control.

"You’re not a fraud..." Zayn tells him quietly. "You’re just stumbling through life like everyone else making stupid decisions. But at the end of the day… I think you want what we all want."

Louis carefully props himself up on one elbow to look Zayn in the eye. "And what’s that?"

Zayn scratches his fingernails back and forth across Louis’ skin. "You want to be accepted by the world. And if it doesn’t, you’re trying to make it."

Louis snorts. "I hate how smart you are. I can see why Liam loves you."

Zayn meets his eyes, something dark lies inside of them, something Louis wants to drown in so his brain stops screaming. 

"And I can see why he loves you."

"Loved."

"Loves," Zayn insist. "Do you wish I was him?"

Louis swallows and his eyes drop to Zayn’s mouth. "No… do _you_ wish I was him?"

Zayn shakes his head, the slight pressure against the back of Louis’ neck increasing. "Nope. But I wish he was here with us."

Louis chokes on a sob. "Gods, me too."

This time when he tries to kiss Zayn, no one stops him.

*

"Do you really think this will work?" Caeli asks, carefully hovering behind Liam on the opened door of the van. She makes nervous clicking noises with her beak as the sky above them turns to a dull grey. Bad weather seems to follow in Liam’s wake wherever he goes.

"It has to..."

The chosen one himself is kneeling in front of a tree where he burns a whole stack of mythomagic cards, all of them having his own face on them. He closes his eyes as he prays, opened palms resting on his knees with a hint of lightning flickering between his fingers. He doesn’t know how to calm himself down, he feels like he’ll burst if he doesn’t spill blood soon.

He didn’t know rage and pain were so closely related until the moment he saw Zayn’s empty bed. He wants this feeling to stop, he wants it to turn into something else, something that won’t consume him every waking second.

"I suppose it was time we finally meet."

The goddess he’d called for leans against the tree as she watches him, a beautiful braid of red hair draped over her shoulder. She’s dressed in something that looks like a green suit made of silk, her sharp features accentuated by golden shimmers. She’s taller than the average woman and there’s curiosity in her eyes.

"Pheme," Liam breathes.

Goddess of fame and gossip… Considering his fate she should feel all too familiar to him but she does not. It’s quite the opposite, her presence feels unsettling. Her green eyes bore into him and her smile is threatening.

"Liam Payne, son of Zeus. We already know each other but I’m curious about why you called me."

"Straight to the point, I see." He rises back to his feet and steps back closer to Caeli. She immediately starts to nibble at his sleeve to calm him down. "I’m looking for Louis."

"Louis," Pheme repeats and folds one hand under her arm, the other cradling her chin as she frowns. "Louis… Walsh?"

Liam takes a deep breath. "Don’t play games with me. Bahar told me that you look after them. She’s one of Louis’ spies, so you _know_. You know where he is and I want you to tell me."

"Ah..." Pheme smiles again. "If Louis truly is my ally, then why on Olympus would I tell you where he is?"

"I… could talk to my father to give you your own seat on Olympus."

"I don’t want a throne on Olympus, try again."

Liam stares at her. Every god wants a place among the olympian gods and wants to bathe in their glory. It’s not like Liam thought this well through, it’s not like he thinks he can make his father do it, but her blatant rejection baffles him.

"I… could offer you glory. All my deeds would be done in your name."

"Liam," Caeli hisses. "Don’t. Your father--"

"I know what I’m doing," Liam growls back, even though he doesn’t in fact know what he’s doing. It’s a great gift though, it would give Pheme a surge of power unlike anything else.

It’s a great gift, yet Pheme looks at him pitifully. Looks at him like what he’s offering is a glass of sand while they stand on a beach.

"Oh, Liam..." Pheme sighs and approaches him slowly, raising her hand to touch him. Liam freezes immediately when her fingers settle on top of his head, as if he was a child in need of comfort. "The hardest lesson you will have to learn is that everything you are and all that you think you have to offer, is worth nothing."

Liam is shaking under the weight of her hand. Her words don’t make any sense, what is she talking about?

"What do you mean?" He hates that he sounds like the child she’s making him feel like right now.

"If you ever feel lost or abandoned… you can call for me. I protect what’s mine. So don’t think I will betray Louis for your petty revenge."

She lets go of him then and turns around to leave but _no_, she can’t leave, he _has_ to know.

"So you’re helping him with _his_ petty revenge instead?," Liam scoffs and holds on to her wrist.

Her eyes seem to glow when she turns around and fixes him with a glare. "The problem is, Liam, that you only know half of everything. What are you going to do when you find him?"

"I don’t know," he says honestly. Because he really doesn’t know, he’s just so _angry_. "I just need to see him and I need to ask him why he did it."

"And if the answer is not what you want it to be?"

Liam huffs out a laugh. "At this point I don’t care about what the answer will be. I just need fucking answers for all this shit that is happening around me."

Pheme hums, her eyes softening, like she just made a decision. "Maybe you should ask the right person then."

Before Liam can ask who that’s supposed to be if it’s not Louis, she leans in closer and closer… and whispers an address into his ear.

*

"Oh my gods, can you not?" Skye has this disgusted look on her face when Louis lifts his head.

"What?"

"Can you stop eating him up with your eyes?"

She nods at Zayn who’s busy cleaning his crossbow at the other end of the room with Jerome next to him. Jerome was quick to come up with a weapon for Zayn and seems to be very proud of its artsy design. At least he’s making sure Zayn takes proper care of it. Zayn is smiling at the boy and ruffling his hair every now and then while they chat.

But for the record, Louis is not very keen on eating him, he’s way too bony. He does look good in a black tank top though, who can blame him? The weird thing is though that he’s not even imagining himself touching those muscles but Liam touching them. Louis always knew he was weird but it’s really showing these days.

"I’m just keeping an eye on everyone, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do as the leader?"

"Since when do you actually call yourself our leader?" Skye asks with a raised eyebrow.

Louis sweats. "Since now?"

"Then why is Namjoon over there telling everyone he’s bulletproof and why is Gunner about to shoot him?”

"What?" Louis shrieks and turns around. "Oh fuck."

Louis can hear Skye snort while he tries to keep his demigods from dying. Just in everyday’s work, no biggie.

*

Liam storms down the stairs and into the bar without hesitation, his quickly rising temper simmering just under his surface enough to force him on without a thought for consequences, completely ignoring Caeli’s warnings behind him.

There’s a dull lull in the smoky bar that almost stutters to a stop when Liam kicks his way in, and he hears Louis’s cackle before he actually sees him. It only fuels Liam to steam on ahead, swerving between tables and hardly even registering the people and monsters throwing themselves out of the way of his furious, righteous path.

(he fiercely wants every creature in this gods forsaken place to know exactly who he is, wishes he hadn’t tugged his hood up and over his head before he’d left for this shithole and the shittier person in it)

Louis’s sat lounged in a booth on the far side of the bar with three others, a lazy grin cradled in his palm as he regales one of his many tall tales that may or may not be a lie to his small gathering. Liam doesn’t give a single shit.

“And then I swear he opened me up like a gods-damn cupboard.” Louis sniggers.

“Pantry raid.” A rancid harpy with thick sunglasses sat on its hooked nose sat opposite Louis hisses on a laugh, it’s long, jagged teeth flashing in the low light.

Liam drags Louis up and out of his seat in one easy sweep. Louis lets him, doesn’t even react or pull one of the many daggers hidden on him. Liam seethes, can’t even breathe for how mad it makes him.

Louis’ monstrous companions jump up too, half ready to rip Liam’s throat out. Liam wants them to, wants them to try, desperate and shaking for them to give him an excuse.

“Fancy seeing you.” Louis smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He still doesn’t struggle in Liam’s iron grip, just loosely holds Liam’s wrists. Liam’s almost disappointed under his rage. “Come here often?”

“Shut your mouth.” Liam grits, shaking so hard with the effort not to shake Louis. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Louis?” Asks one of the girls. Amber liquid from her glass swirls around her fingers like a tiny infinity whirlpool. Liam vaguely recognises her, a campmate from the Poseidon cabin. Marina.

"It’s okay," Louis tells her with a wave of his hand and everyone in the bar relaxes back into their seats, like Louis is a fucking king among the scum of the earth.

It sickens Liam and arouses him at the same time. He knew his feelings would be all over the place, but it’s worse than he had imagined.

_What are you going to do when you find him?_, Phemes words echo in his head.

_I’m going to kill him, I’m going to kiss him, I’m going to beg him, I’m going to cry, I’m going to die_. 

All of them are in the realm of possibility, all of them are happening in some alternative reality at the same time. In this reality he drags Louis out of the bar instead and into the cold air, pulls him into an alley where he can press Louis’ back against the wall as he drags the hood from his head.

"Where is he? What did you do to him?" He’s proud on how steady his voice sounds.

Louis rolls his eyes. "He’s exactly where he wants to be. And that’s _wherever_ he wants to be."

"What did you say to him?"

"What I say to them all. That they have a choice. Okay wait, I might’ve been a bit more specific in his case, since I knew what he wanted."

"Oh you knew? What was it then? What would make him leave?"

Louis stares at Liam, as if he’s trying to figure out whether he’s serious or not. "Did you never ask him? Did you never offer to help him find Niall?"

Niall. Of course it was Niall. The only reason Zayn would leave him was Niall, not Louis. Never Louis, right? He wouldn’t…

Then his eyes drop to the bruise on Louis’ neck and he feels sick.

"Liar," he whispers. "All you do is fucking _lie_ whenever you open your mouth."

"No, no Liam, no!" For the first time he sees Louis being embarrassed, flushing all over his face with one hand clamped over his neck to hide the fucking _love bite_. "Listen to me."

"I don’t want to listen to you… I don’t even want to ask you anything anymore because you’ll just be lying again."

Liam suddenly lets go of him, feels burned by betrayal all over again, consuming him like the greek fire that lighted up Camp Half-Blood the night Louis left.

"I lied about what I’m doing but everything else was the truth. I wanted to explain it to you on Mount Olympus but..."

The memory of his desperate need to come in Louis’ mouth makes him blush in shame as well. 

"I don’t want to hear it."

"But you have to… you have to listen to me."

Louis suddenly grabs both of his arms, forces him to look him in the eye. He hates the blue of his eyes that remind him of the sky. A blue sky that he hasn’t seen in days with his temper ruining the weather.

"Everything I did, Liam… at least since I left Camp Half-Blood... was for you."

Liam stares at him, lips parted in confusion.

"For me? What the fuck, Louis? Why would any of this be for me?"

"_Because_," Louis’ grip tightens on him, "all I ever wanted was for you to run away with me."

"... what?"

"I told you to remember everything, not just the bad… I never lied when I said I love you. But you were so wrapped up in the prophecy and Zeus I felt like I could never truly have you. I needed you to come to me, I needed to get you out of their fangs so I could _show_ you--"

Liam snorts, trying to fight Louis’ grip but he feels weak, he’s always felt weak in Louis’ presence. "You tricked me into coming here by kidnapping Zayn."

Louis smirks at that. "We both know Zayn well enough to know that I didn’t have to kidnap him. The gods don’t care about what we want and all he wanted was to find his brother. Zeus doesn’t care if you survive the prophecy but _I do_. I want to show you that there’s something other than what he is promising you."

Liam’s shoulders sink and he shakes his head. "What makes you think I even _want_ anything else?"

"If you truly don’t… then you would’ve listened to your father and Chiron and you would’ve stayed the fuck away from me. But you didn’t."

When Louis drags him closer by the collar of his jacket, the familiar pull between them makes it impossible to resist. Their foreheads bump and both take a shaky breath.

"I’m so angry," Liam confesses quietly. "I’m so hurt."

"I know," Louis whispers. "I’m sorry."

"You’re the one who hurt me, do you understand that?"

"I do. I’m sorry. But let me show you."

"Show me what?"

Louis slowly lets go of him and brings enough distance between them so he can fix him in place with his eyes instead. "Let me show you what I’m doing here. I promise that none of it was ever done to hurt you."

Liam swallows hard. "It probably won’t change anything."

"Maybe… But at least you can see it with your own eyes this time."

It’s not an easy decision. If Louis is lying, Liam will probably run into a trap and maybe end up dead or as bait for Zeus. _Would father come for me?_. The tiny seed of doubt that Louis had planted inside of him so long ago, seems to finally have taken root now. It’s what didn’t make him kill Louis on the spot. It’s what had blossomed into pain more than rage. It’s what still makes him want to throw himself into Louis’ arms the same way he wants with Zayn.

Maybe seeing it with his own eyes now will help him understand what the fuck is going on inside Louis’ brain. Maybe there’s a chance for his heart to recover.

"Fine," Liam growls. "Fine. I’ll give you that one chance. But I swear, if you’re ever gonna lie to me again--"

"I won’t," Louis says with so much conviction it almost sways Liam already. "Contrary to popular belief: I don’t like to lie."

"Whatever, Tomlinson. Lead the way."

"Wait." Louis suddenly steps closer, way too close, and tugs Liam’s hood back over his head, dragging it over his eyes as far as possible. "They shouldn’t see you. Some of my kids aren’t very fond of you and what you stand for."

"Oh."

"Where’s the feather ball by the way?"

Liam swallows. "I left her in the car..."

Louis blinks. "And she was fine with that?"

"No. She thought I might do something stupid."

Louis barks out a laugh, the one that makes his eyes crinkle. Gods, Liam really wishes he could hate him as much as he should.

"Contrary to more popular belief… I really missed her, too. Not just you."

Liam wants to ask _did you really miss me?_ and _did Zayn miss me?_ but he can’t.

Louis leads him inside of the warehouse right next to the bar. Liam expects there to be inhuman guards and divine traps, but nothing. It’s just a plain warehouse with a plain elevator and a plain key that he uses to get onto the floor that he wants to. Everything about Louis has always been so _plain_ and Liam had loved that about him. Maybe still does. Fuck, he doesn’t know.

They spend the way up in silence but as soon as the doors open Liam is hit with a wave of noises. There’s demigods _everywhere_. Liam didn’t realise before that so many had vanished. But some of them Liam doesn’t even recognise. Had Louis plucked them off the streets before the satyrs could?

"Hey Louis!" Someone shouts and jogs over. It’s Dalton, Liam has actually been with him on a quest before. He had almost gotten them all killed because his arrows tend to miss their mark. For a son of Apollo it was considered a disgrace.

Liam immediately drops his gaze to avoid being recognised, pulling the hood further down his face.

"Dalton my dude," Louis shouts back. "What’s up!"

Dalton stops right in front of them. "Skye and Namjoon were looking for you earlier. They said it was urgent?"

"Thanks. I’ll see them asap." there’s a pause then. "Why are you so filthy?"

"Ah," Dalton chuckles. "We sneaked into Demeter’s party, with Ivy and Basil, like you wanted us to."

"And?"

"No Satyr or Nymphe has seen Niall or heard about his whereabouts. It’s a dead end."

Niall. That makes Liam’s ears perk up. So they actually are looking for him? It wasn’t just something he made up to lure Zayn away?

"Fuck. Zayn will be bummed..."

"Ivy had an idea, by the way…"

Louis crosses his arms in front of his chest, head tilted to the side. Louis actually looks like a leader. He looks like someone people would follow into death and Liam doesn’t know what to do with that information. Liam also has people who would follow him but it feels different. Demigods look at him like he already is a god and they want a tiny share of that glory. Dalton looks at Louis like he actually knows him and doesn’t just worship the idea of him. That realisation hits Liam hard.

"What idea?" Louis asked.

"So, the cornucopia--"

"No."

"What? You didn’t even--"

"We’re not gonna steal the cornucopia."

"Why?"

"Cause I’m a lot of things, but not an idiot. There’s nothing on this earth or in any possible reality where I’d be stupid enough to steal the cornucopia from under Demeter’s nose. It’s vital not just to the divine but also to the mortal ecosystem. That’s more than just pissing off the gods, that’s actually putting people in danger. I’m not here for that."

"But the war--"

"No, Dalton. Tell her ‘no’. It’s too dangerous."

Liam hears the demigod sigh. "Okay, Louis. You’re the boss."

"Damn right I am," Louis chirps and then tugs at Liam’s sleeve. "Come on."

Liam ignores the muttered ‘and who is _that_?’ from Dalton and follows Louis across the hallway.

They pass by many doors, some of them harbouring silence, others the laughter of children and others loud music that makes the door frames almost shake. This place seems cheerful and _alive_, not at all what Liam had expected. He feels the tension slowly but surely leaving his body, every step bringing him a little closer to Louis, until their knuckles brush.

Louis clears his throat and then suddenly turns around a corner, showing him another door, only this one is white and clearly locked. Louis raps against it with his knuckles and then shoots a smile at Liam, the one that’s supposed to say ‘trust me’.

He’s not sure he can, but he supposes he doesn’t have a choice.

The door opens only a moment later and a demigod with silver hair looks back at them, black rimmed glasses sitting on his nose as he shoots a glance at Liam.

"Who’s that?"

"Don’t worry about him," Louis says and pushes past him. Liam follows.

"Where have you been?" A girl sitting at a small wobbly table asks. It’s Skye… his _sister_ who had betrayed him that night. A new wave of heartbreaking pain washes over him.

"Doing business," Louis hums and falls into what is obviously his chair. It has a bunch of curse worse and wings scribbled over its back. "So... What’s so important, Skye?"

Skye seems to be just as nervous about Liam’s presence as her friend, who Louis calls ‘Namjoon’ when he waves him over to sit with them. Liam still hovers behind Louis, like a shadow. A weird experience, when all his life all eyes have only ever been on him.

Namjoon and Skye share a look and then Namjoon clears his throat.

"Uhm, so… one of the new kids. Frankie, child of Hermes. We caught them."

"Caught them doing what?"

Skye bites her bottom lip. "They tried to contact Chiron through an Iris message. They wanted to inform him of our next raid."

Liam can only see the back of Louis’ head and can see how he goes completely still. Namjoon and Skye watch him carefully, almost anxiously. Louis takes a few deep breaths and then sits up straight in his chair.

"Who caught them exactly?"

"Killian," Namjoon explains. "He… told a few people. But it hasn’t spread yet."

"Yet," Louis repeats quietly. "Maybe I should talk to them, find out what they want."

"They’re a spy," Namjoon says with a frown. "It’s obvious, isn’t it? Killian suggested that maybe… we should tell everyone else. Show them what we do with traitors?"

Liam tenses and so does Louis. "Traitors? We… we’re not-- Namjoon, what are you saying?"

"I’m sorry, hyung," Namjoon immediately backpaddles. "We just thought it would be a good idea to--"

"What?" Louis suddenly hisses. "To burn all traitors and silence those who speak up? _We_ are the traitors, don’t you forget that. We’re the ones who abused everyone’s trust. There’s no fucking good or bad side between us and Camp Half-Blood, they’re not the enemy. We’ve always focused on the gods and--"

"We put them in the cellar," Skye interrupts and at least she has the decency to look embarrassed about it. "Cuffed them to the wall."

Louis’ silence has always been more terrifying than any of his rants. If someone like Louis runs out of words to express his feelings, his anger, then the world should be cautious. Even Liam feels sick thinking about it. A child cuffed to the wall like a dog?

"I want you both to get out right now," he finally says. "I want you to get Killian and everyone else who knows and bring them to the cellar. You’re gonna unchain my sibling and you’re gonna wait there for me."

Namjoon winces. "Louis--"

"Get out."

They hesitate another moment before they finally get up and leave the room. When the door falls closed behind them Louis is still motionless, just breathing heavily through his nose. He’s angry. Angry and desperate, Liam can feel it.

"Louis..." 

"You know, that’s not exactly what I wanted you to see. I thought everyone would be on their best behaviour but--" he cuts himself off with a huff. "This is bullshit. It’s always been bullshit."

Liam realises then and there that this is still his Louis. It has always been his Louis. He’s diving into things head first, thinking it’s a good idea but that idea is never really fleshed out. He just does what feels right in his heart and goes for it without thinking too hard about it. His Louis, his stupid, precious, idiot Louis.

"You don’t have them under control, do you?" Liam asks carefully and Louis finally turns around. He looks exhausted.

"I just… at first I just wanted to piss off my dad… then all gods… and help a few demigods along the way. But now they gave themselves a name and an agenda and this is not what I intended it to be."

Liam nods. "Maybe it’s not your fate."

"Fate…" Louis laughs humourlessly. "Whatever my fate is, I would give it all up, you know? I just want us to run away from all this. I don’t care about fucking soulmates and neither should you. It’s a choice, Liam. Choose me, choose Zayn. Lets leave all of this behind."

"Choice?" Liam wants to laugh, wants to scream, but it comes out like a whine. "There is no such thing as choice when it comes to prophecies, didn’t you get the memo?"

"Maybe that’s why I was never chosen to go on a quest in the first place. The fates know I’m not up for this crap." He sighs when he recognises Liam’s stern expression. "I’m just saying, Liam."

"Saying what?"

He shrugs. "That line in your prophecy. _A world’s new dawn_. That doesn’t sound so bad. Are you sure you’re on the right side?"

Louis Tomlinson, world shatterer, rug from under your feet puller, grin re-inventer, fear chaser, questioner of everything. Liam wants to kiss him.

He reaches for Louis and Louis is all too willing to meet him half-way, both grasping each other desperately.

But before their lips can meet, chaos erupts outside. Louis tears away immediately, cursing loudly. Liam follows him when he takes off and rips open the door to run down the corridor. Curious heads peak out of doors, upset murmurs follow them like shadows. There’s a staircase that seems to be cut off from the elevator and Louis basically flies down the stairs. When they reach the bottom there is a crying demigod that must be Frankie, with red marks around their wrists. There’s angry demigods shouting at each other, at Namjoon and Skye, at Zayn… 

Wait, _Zayn_!

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Zayn growls at who must be Killian and tries to reach for something he is holding in a death grip.

"Caeli," Liam gasps when he recognises his companion, who’s struggling and trying to pull free.

"This bird belongs to Liam, which means he’s close, we can use it as leverage."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Zayn growls. "Is this what all of you have been up to this whole time? I thought you were trying to piss off the gods, not other demigods."

"Is there even a difference anymore?" Another demigod speaks up and Louis seems to have enough.

"Shut up, all of you!"

All eyes turn on Louis and the first thing he does is make sure that Frankie is okay. Gods, they’re really just a kid, barely eleven.

"Louis," they whimper, not able to stop crying and Louis makes a shushing noise before he drags them into a hug.

"I’m sorry. Everything will be okay, I promise." Then he quickly guides them into Skye’s arms and gives her and Namjoon a firm look. "Get them out, now."

Killian and his gang immediately roar like the bunch of brutes they seem to be. 

"You can’t do this, Louis!"

"I fucking can and I will. Who do you think runs this show, Killian?" Louis steps up to him now, the aura of fury that he radiates is almost visible. "Fucking look at me, who do you call ‘boss’ all the time?"

Killian’s nostrils flare. "Well, maybe we shouldn’t call you that anymore."

"Tell him to let Caeli go," Zayn hisses and Liam agrees. He wants to step forward right now but he’s worried to make things worse by showing himself. "Tell him to let her go or I’ll kill him, I swear I will."

"Everyone calm down for fuck’s sake," Louis growls and turns back to Killian. "Let Caeli go and we’ll talk about this like adults."

Killian sneers and shakes his head, a few other demigods are slowly backing him up. "Maybe it’s time for a new leader who actually gets shit done and won’t just play childish pranks on the gods."

Louis stares at him, licking his lips. "Do you really think that’s how it’s going to be? Do you really think you won’t die as soon as I’m gone? I didn’t think you were that much of an idiot, Killian."

"You fucking--"

"Hey!" Zayn shouts when Killian’s grip around Caeli’s throat tightens and Liam--

He can’t. He can’t just stay back. He rips the hood from his head and can’t stop the tiny sizzle of electricity that washes over the floor and makes everyone jump in shock.

Killian stumbles from it and he immediately lets go of Caeli, who gasps and doesn’t have the strength to hold herself up so she flops down onto the floor. It only takes a second though and Zayn has scooped her up into his arms. There’s two, no, three feathers on the ground and that’s definitely three too many in Liam’s book.

"You--" Killian stares at him with widened eyes before they settle back on Louis. "Traitor. You’ve betrayed all of us, Louis. You brought him here!"

"You know, this is really funny," Louis hums. "Everyone calls me a traitor, even though I’ve always been the same and always stood for the same thing. Is it that you had false expectations maybe?"

"You promised us a war," Killian growls.

"I did no such thing," Louis frowns. "Maybe a bit of a revenge. If war is your idea of revenge then perhaps you should leave. No, you should definitely leave."

"If you think we can win this fight without a war, you’re wrong, Louis. You’re dumb and you have no idea what you’re doing. We’re _done_ with you."

It’s been a while since Liam last saw a gun. Back then it put a hole in his body and made him lose the Achilles curse. He still feels the phantom pain in his guts every day. So there’s no logical reason why his body decides it would be a good idea to jump between Louis and said gun. Maybe it’s the voice in his head reminding him that this time he wouldn’t just lose a curse. He would lose Louis. Isn’t that far worse? With Zayn the fury had drowned out every other feeling, so nothing has ever felt as painful as the day Louis left Camp Half-Blood. And now he actually has hope to get him back, to get Zayn back, to get _everything_ back that ever really mattered to him.

As soon as the trigger goes off, pain ruptures his left side. It makes him choke on his stuttering heartbeat as someone calls out his name. It sounds like Caeli. _Caeli_, she is safe, right?

He doesn’t remember sinking to the floor. It’s like he’s blinking and suddenly all he sees is the shabby ceiling and the clinical white lights shining down on him. He expected to be cold but he feels warm, really. Maybe that warm feeling is the blood pooling out of his body. He should be used to that feeling by now but he’s not. He’s really not. The pain is still so very there.

There’s more shouting, screams maybe and then something hits the floor beside him. A body. A body without a _head_. Feet rush past his vision and everything is so loud and bright and he blinks again. Louis is there, with his red dyed sword in one hand, and then he’s on his knees, looking at Zayn.

“Well? What are you waiting for, Zayn? Use that divinely power from Daddy and heal him up.”

"I second that," Caeli wheezes as she wobbles over to pick at Liam’s hair desperately, as if she’s trying to make him stay awake.

Zayn scowls, but even through a haze of eye-watering, back-arching pain Liam can clearly see the clawing panic hidden beneath his gaze. “Not all children of Apollo can _heal_, Louis.” Zayn snaps heatedly, a more than sore subject. “For fucks sake, you’ve been at camp as long as me, you were there for all of Chiron’s healing classes too, right?”

“Oh yeah, as fucking if!” Louis wheezes, a little hysterically. He grips his hair in a white-knuckled vice and stares at Liam’s gaping wound like it holds the answers to this universe and the next. “I skipped every fucking class I could, I didn’t need to learn that shit, it was pointless.”

“I’d laugh at the irony if my lungs weren’t full of my blood.” Liam pants thickly, finally able to curve in on himself. The smaller he is the less there is to hurt, right?

Wrong, and when he can’t bite back a pained whimper quick enough Louis and Zayn are there immediately, gentle hands on either side of Liam’s ribs to lay him back down flat.

Liam doesn’t like the mirrored look on their faces, they shouldn’t ever look so helpless and terrified. Liam hates himself for it, for putting that look on their faces. They look like they’re about to lose something vital, something precious, something they can’t live without.

Liam has about a million and one things he desperately needs to say to them both, he has an entire _lifetime_ of things to tell them and no fucking time; _it’s okay, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m not sorry for loving you, don’t look at me like I’m something you can’t lose, I shouldn’t love you both so much but I still do._

He says none of them, he can’t. “I think I’m gonna pass out.” Liam breathes with a frown, and does just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo!!! What do you think so far? 
> 
> We hope maybe some of you are still reading this :'D Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> OH LOUIS. you're whipped.


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